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SONNET XI A LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS
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159

SONNET XI
A LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS

Yes: every manner of creature you caress!
That yellow wanton evil-tongued canary,—
You hold the fluffy bird with laughter airy
Within your blue-silk amorous loosened dress.
You love your lover,—I could swear it,—less
Than that red squirrel! Wild coquettish fairy,
Of gifts to eager man so shy and chary,—
Yet all creation you would bend to bless.
With the dark tresses of that horse's mane
You mix your own: you kiss his shining neck:
You murmur pet names without end to him.
If I would kiss you, lo! you start and check
My passion with cold words: then turn again
To that canary on his saucer's rim.