The Song of Jeanne de France

How slow, how slow the minutes pass, 
What time I gaze across the leas, 
And watch the dew dry off the grass, 
Heigho, Denise! 

Spring walks abroad in green and gold, 
And flushes all the almond-trees, 
But still my heart is dark, and cold 
As death, Denise! 

My father rules a kingdom fair, 
My mother smiles in silken ease: 
I go in velvet and in vair 
All day, Denise! 

In velvet and in vair I go, 
But children never clasp my knees, 
And no kind lips my pale lips know, 
Heigho, Denise! 

Some day, some day I'll surely hear 
My name cried down the listening breeze, 
And hear a voice more lief and dear 
Than yours, Denise! 

And, hearing, I shall rise and go 
Out from my prison, if God please: 
Like cottage-girls, more glad, more low 
Than I, Denise! 

Oh surely I shall quit my throne 
To meet my lover on the leas, 
And if the name whereby he's known 
Be Death — why, you may then make moan, 
Not I, Denise!