A lover's diary | ||
16
MONA, SLEEPING.
Ah, never had maiden
Such maidenly grace!
Her dream like a veil
Lieth over her face,
And the cheek next the pillow
Is printed with lace.
Such maidenly grace!
Her dream like a veil
Lieth over her face,
And the cheek next the pillow
Is printed with lace.
I dare not look on her!
But soft as I may,
I will steal from her bedside
Her slippers away,
And line them with wool
By the time it is day.
But soft as I may,
I will steal from her bedside
Her slippers away,
And line them with wool
By the time it is day.
17
I hate the bold moonlight
That treads (as it dares)
The leaves at her window
As if they were stairs,
And plays with her dear
Little hand, unawares.
That treads (as it dares)
The leaves at her window
As if they were stairs,
And plays with her dear
Little hand, unawares.
For her sake, and not for
Myself, I am proud:
If I live when her bright head
To death shall be bowed,
Of the white leaves of lilies
I 'll make her a shroud.
Myself, I am proud:
If I live when her bright head
To death shall be bowed,
Of the white leaves of lilies
I 'll make her a shroud.
O Mona! sweet Mona!
If I by God's grace
Had a crown, I would give it
Just now, to efface
With kisses on kisses
The print of the lace.
If I by God's grace
Had a crown, I would give it
Just now, to efface
With kisses on kisses
The print of the lace.
A lover's diary | ||