Sara Teasedale: Crowned


I wear a crown invisible and clear,    And go my lifted royal way apart    Since you have crowned me softly in your heart With love that is half ardent, half austere; And as a queen disguised might pass anear    The bitter crowd that barters in a mart,    Veiling her pride while tears of pity start, I hide my glory thru a jealous fear. My crown shall stay a sweet and secret thing    Kept pure with prayer at evensong and morn,    And when you come to take it from my head,    I shall not weep, nor will a word be said, But I shall kneel before you, oh my king,    And bind my brow forever with a thorn.