 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
“How young she was and how fair she was!
How tall as a palm, and how pearly fair,
As the night came down on her glorious hair!
Then the night grew deep and my eyes grew dim,
And a sad-faced figure began to swim
And float by my face, flit past, then pause,
With her hands held up and her head held down,
Yet face to my face; and that face was brown!
How tall as a palm, and how pearly fair,
As the night came down on her glorious hair!
Then the night grew deep and my eyes grew dim,
And a sad-faced figure began to swim
And float by my face, flit past, then pause,
With her hands held up and her head held down,
Yet face to my face; and that face was brown!
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |