YOU gave me a geranium leaf— A little thing, but full of meaning; When inclination's half belief, The token made it worth the gleaning. Last night your hand was clasped in mine, 'Twas but the pressure of a minute, And yet, by some mysterious sign, A red rose blushed to birth within it! Oh! rather pluck for me, fair child, A branch of cypress or of willow; My days are bleak, my thoughts are wild, I am but sea-weed on the billow. For me nor love, nor home, nor wife Can ever be a curse or blessing— The envious riddle of my life Would puzzle half your days in guessing. A week—a moth—perchance a year, You might remember how you met me, And then, with neither smile nor tear, 'Twill be so easy to forget me. With you the world is frolic May, With me, 'tis many a month of weeping— And you'll be dancing, Elsie Gay, When I am in the valley sleeping. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CERTAIN POET ON THE DEBATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONG TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND by THOMAS CAMPBELL THE OLD MAN DREAMS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG by ANNIE CHAMBERS KETCHUM RECESSIONAL by RUDYARD KIPLING VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1877 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |