MY LADY! you were little then: Twelve years were mine; Soon forgotten were your lovers, All left to pine. When we played among the others, You still I sought; When small hands were intertwining, 'Twas yours I caught. As in gold and purple glory, Poised o'er the rose, Tells the butterfly his story, All his heart glows; Leaf by leaf, still nearer drawing, Is yet too shy All the honey-dew to gather She holds so nigh: So my heart was yearning wildly Your lips to press; 'Twas your slender fingers only I dared caress. Through me thrilled a sudden rapture, Then keen as woe: What gave joy and pain such meeting? Love -- long ago. Twelve years only -- and a lover! 'Tis not common. You too, Lady -- were you feeling Like a woman? Did there come some thought bewildering As, half afraid, With your frock and with your dolly You stood and played? If I praised -- too soon a poet -- Your tiny feet, Too soon fair, you leant and touched me With magic sweet. I at least have ne'er forgotten That even-tide When we set up house together, -- Bridegroom and bride. Gems you dreamed of: -- I dreamed over My vow to you! Both were older than our years were, Both different too! We played at the dance and dinner: You wished it so, -- Said that proper weddings must have Some pomp and show. You enjoyed it as a pastime, -- I thought it true, Told my love aloud, and whispered "Dearest" to you. On your cheek I ventured, dreaming, One kiss to leave. Play for me has all been over Since that spring eve. |