The Princess

WHEN I am come to the House of the Dead,
Promise me this — the Princess said :

Once a year when the land grows green,
And the pulse of the world beats strong once more,
Come to the place of my frozen sleep,
Lift the latch of my silent door.

Carry me forth to the world I loved,
The bright warm world that I left behind ;
Give me the glimpse of the sun again,
The open sky and the touch of the wind.

Take me back to the streets I knew,
The noise and the clamor, the gay unrest;
The laughter and cries and the broken songs
Of the old glad life I loved the best.

Let me go brave in a silken pomp
Of purple vesture and gold attire;
Heap roses till I be fair once more,
Make me warm with my jewel’s fire.

Let slim brown slave-girls dance before,
And well-skilled flute-players pipe my mirth;
So let me go in the springtime sun
Back to the life of the lovely earth!

When ye come to a place that my women know,
Where the tall palms crowd in the temple square
And a rose vine swings like a pendent flame, —
Let me rest for a moment there!

Be sure that my sightless eyes will see,
And my silent heart with a gladness leap
At the touch and the sound of it all again,
Ere you bring me back to my House of Sleep.

Carry me forth as befits my state,
Slave-girls and flute-players on before :
Just one day in the happy world,
Then turn in peace from my silent door.

When I am come to the House of the Dead,
Promise me this — the Princess said.