Maggie a Lady Christina Rossetti

You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear,
         For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see;
And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year,
         'T will be little lord or lady at my knee.

O, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil,
         That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost?
You're as white as I turned once down by the mill,
         When one told me you and ship and crew were lost:

Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl
         (It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me),
Philip with the merry life in lip and curl,
         Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea!

I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint;
         I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad,
Till I raised my wail of desolate complaint
         For you, my cousin, brother, all I had.

They said I looked so pale,--some say so fair,--
         My lord stopped in passing to soothe me back to life:
I know I missed a ringlet from my hair
         Next morning; and now I am his wife.

Look at my gown, Philip, and look at my ring,
         I'm all crimson and gold from top to toe:
All day long I sit in the sun and sing,
         Where in the sun red roses blush and blow.