ARE you filled with wonder, Jacqueminot, Do you think me mad that I kiss you so? If a rose could only its thoughts express, I'd find you mocking, I more than guess; And yet if you vow me a fond old fool, Just think if your own fine pulse was cool When you lay in her tresses an hour ago, Jacqueminot. This pale, proud girl, you must understand, Held all my fate in her small white hand, And when I asked her to be my bride, She wanted a day to think -- decide; And I asked, if her answer were @3no@1, she'd wear A Marshal Niel to the ball in her hair, But if 'twere @3yes@1, she would tell me so By a Jacqueminot. My heart found heaven, I had seen my sign, And after the dance I knew her mine, And I plucked you out of her warm, soft hair, As her stately pride stood trembling there, And I felt in the dark for her lips to kiss, And I pressed them close to my own like @3this@1, And I held her cheek to my own cheek -- @3so@1, Jacqueminot! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A VOLUME OF SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY by GEORGE SANTAYANA ESTHER; A YOUNG MAN'S TRAGEDY: 50 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WITH A COPY OF HERRICK by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: OCTOBER by EDMUND SPENSER THE GLASSES AND THE BIBLE by ST. CLAIR ADAMS |