English poem
Then she came, when his heart was grown weary with loving…
by John Reade (1826–)
Then she came, when his heart was grown weary with loving the dream of the past! She is fair—I could curse her for that, if I thought that this passion would last! But, e’en if it last, all the love is for me, and, through good and through ill, The King shall remember his Vashti, shall think of his Beautiful still.
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