The conqueror's chaplet doth not suit at all Those girlish azure orbs, and tresses' flow: Above - the victor wreath of ravaged Gaul - The fairy-land of thy sweet face below, Unscathed and clear! Ill fancy! that I wrought A garland for thee of such stern device; I made a monster, Katie, when I brought The Caesar's shadow o'er thy sunny eyes; But I must kiss thee, darling, all the same; What, peevish! and this one brief kiss my dole! Well - as it seems but half a kiss I stole, Now thou art but half Katie, I will claim The other half when thou art Katie whole, Uncrost by martial hints and Roman fame. |