Spinsterhood

I HAVE looked on the king. From out of the North he came;
The world was busy and blind; but my heart took wing
At the light in his face, and the truth swept out like a flame,
And I said, “ ’T is the king! ”

The depths of my soul felt the breath of a strange new word,
And an unfledged joy I bore on my breast unseen.
All my life dreamed into the voice that my spirit heard,
Singing, “ Thou art the queen.”

But the king passed by with never a glance at me;
He was gazing aloft at a star, or down at a stone,
With a brow that pondered and eyes that were keen to see.

And I wait, alone.