Blonde Charlotte's face is aquiline, And Bess has features retroussé; One has a smile like summer-shine, Through which wee dimples peep and play. Her eyes are gems so rare and pure They put to blush the Kohinoor; Withal, she 's such a winsome witch, Is—well, no matter who or which! When Charlotte dons her gown of gray And Bess her jaunty suit of blue, The two are fairer than the day When June is ripened through and through. And one is sweeter than the blooms That pout without her curtained rooms; They pout, no doubt, because their lot Keeps them so far from—tell I 'll not! Dear Lot and Bess are young and gay And keep my 'wildered wits awhirl; I know not how to break away From one and court the other girl, For each has charms hard to resist And each seems fashioned to be kissed. At least, 't were rapture to caress That rare coquette—"Which?" You must guess! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO A FRIEND I CAN'T FIND by JAMES GALVIN TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON TAGORE by MARIANNE MOORE HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 11 by EZRA POUND THE REVEALER by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON NIGHT AND DAY: 2 by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE VISION by GEORGE SANTAYANA MANOKWARI, IRIAN JAYA; IN MEMORIAM, ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE by KAREN SWENSON |