Tiresias, and Other Poems/To H.R.H. Princess Beatrice

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TO H.R.H. PRINCESS BEATRICE.

Two Suns of Love make day of human life,Which else with all its pains, and griefs, and deaths,Were utter darkness—one, the Sun of dawnThat brightens thro' the Mother's tender eyes,And warms the child's awakening world—and oneThe later-rising Sun of spousal Love,Which from her household orbit draws the childTo move in other spheres. The Mother weepsAt that white funeral of the single life,Her maiden daughter's marriage; and her tearsAre half of pleasure, half of pain—the childIs happy—even in leaving her! but Thou, ​True daughter, whose all-faithful, filial eyesHave seen the loneliness of earthly thrones,Wilt neither quit the widow’d Crown, nor letThis later light of Love have risen in vain,But moving thro’ the Mother’s home, betweenThe two that love thee, lead a summer life,Sway’d by each Love, and swaying to each Love,Like some conjectured planet in mid heavenBetween two suns, and drawing down from bothThe light and genial warmth of double day.
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