The Prince
1876-1961
My heart it was a cup of gold
That at his lip did long to lie,
But he hath drunk the red wine down,
And tossed the goblet by.
My heart it was a floating bird
That through the world did wander free,
But he hath locked it in a cage,
And lost the silver key.
My heart it was a white, white rose
That bloomed upon a broken bough,
He did but wear it for an hour,
And it is withered now.
DayPoems Poem No. 1184
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1184.html">The Prince by Josephine Dodge Daskam</a>
The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor
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