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Daughter of Eve

by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
A fool to snap my lily.

My garden-plot I have not kept;
Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
It’s winter now I waken.

Talk what you please of future spring
And sun-warm’d sweet to-morrow—
Stripp’d bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
I sit alone with sorrow.

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