Often I dream your big blue eyes, Though loth their meaning to confess, Regard me with a clear surprise Of dawning tenderness. Often I dream you gladly hear The words I hardly dare to breathe, -- The words that falter in their fear To tell what throbs beneath. Often I dream your hand in mine Falls like a flower at eventide, And down the path we leave a line Of footsteps side by side. But ah, in all my dreams of bliss, In passion's hunger, fever's drouth, I never dare to dream of this: My lips upon your mouth. And so I dream your big blue eyes, That look on me with tenderness, Grow wide, and deep, and sad, and wise, And dim with dear distress. |