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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


DI'S MITTEN by WILLIAM CLYDE FITCH

First Line: THO' A CRUMPLED GLOVE IT BE
Last Line: BUT HER GLOVE.
Subject(s): GLOVES; MITTENS; MUFFS;

THO' a crumpled glove it be,
Yet 't is precious, -- just to me
It was Di's.
And the little hand that wore it,
Heavens, did I not adore it!
With what sighs
Have I pressed those finger-tips,
Longing to try with my lips
Sweeter prize!

Such a darling little shape,
Just the hand you want to take
In your own,
And to call the owner dear, too,
While you're sitting very near, too,
And alone.
If a man will try and see,
He will find to love he'll be
Very prone.

She was very sweet and shy
When I whispered, "Lovely Di,
Be mine, love!"
When her pretty hand I sought, too,
When I thought her fairly caught, too,
She fled from me with a start,
Gave me smiling, not her heart,
But her glove.



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