Oscar Wilde (1854–1900). Poems. 1881.
40. The Dole of the Kings Daughter
(Breton.)S
And seven in the sky;
Seven sins on the King’s daughter,
Deep in her soul to lie.
(Roses are red in her red-gold hair)
And O where her bosom and girdle meet
Red roses are hidden there.
Amid the rush and reed,
See the lean fishes that are fain
Upon dead men to feed.
(Cloth of gold is goodly prey,)
See the black ravens in the air,
Black, O black as the night are they.
(There is blood upon her hand)
Why are the lilies flecked with red?
(There is blood on the river sand.)
And two from the north and west,
For the black raven a goodly feast,
For the King’s daughter rest.
(Red, O red, is the stain of gore!)
He hath duggen a grave by the darksome yew,
(One grave will do for four.)
In the black water none,
The sins on her soul are seven,
The sin upon his is one.