Verse > Anthologies > Higginson and Bigelow, eds. > American Sonnets
Higginson and Bigelow, comps.  American Sonnets.  1891.
By Helen Maria (Fiske) (Hunt) Jackson (1830–1885)
O MESSENGER, art thou the king, or I?
Thou dalliest outside the palace gate
Till on thine idle armor lie the late
And heavy dews: the morn’s bright, scornful eye
Reminds thee; then, in subtle mockery,        5
Thou smilest at the window where I wait,
Who bade me ride for life. In empty state
My days go on, while false hours prophesy
Thy quick return; at last, in sad despair,
I cease to bid thee, leave thee free as air;        10
When lo, thou stand’st before me glad and fleet,
And lay’st undreamed-of treasures at my feet.
Ah! messenger, thy royal blood to buy,
I am too poor. Thou art the king, not I.

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