Dream-land Christina Rossetti

        Where sunless rivers weep
        Their waves into the deep,
        She sleeps a charmèd sleep:
                Awake her not.
        Led by a single star,
        She came from very far
        To seek where shadows are
                Her pleasant lot.

        She left the rosy morn,
        She left the fields of corn,
        For twilight cold and lorn
                And water springs.
        Through sleep, as through a veil,
        She sees the sky look pale,
        And hears the nightingale
                That sadly sings.

        Rest, rest, a perfect rest
        Shed over brow and breast;
        Her face is toward the west,
                The purple land.
        She cannot see the grain
        Ripening on hill and plain;
        She cannot feel the rain
                Upon her hand.