'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||
396
SOME DAY.
Some day, thy breast will waken,
As yet I never knew,
Bright as a blossom shaken,
That drops its early dew.
As yet I never knew,
Bright as a blossom shaken,
That drops its early dew.
Some day, thy face will alter,
In strange delicious fear,
And thy red lips will falter
Confessions I would hear.
In strange delicious fear,
And thy red lips will falter
Confessions I would hear.
Some day, the locks my finger
Would reverently clasp,
Unprized will roughly linger
Within a coarser grasp.
Would reverently clasp,
Unprized will roughly linger
Within a coarser grasp.
Some day, those eyes will soften,
To the old sacred strain,
And give what I so often
Have pleaded for in vain.
To the old sacred strain,
And give what I so often
Have pleaded for in vain.
Some day, thy heart to other
And younger suit will bend,
And gain a more than brother,
To lose a more than friend.
And younger suit will bend,
And gain a more than brother,
To lose a more than friend.
Some day, thy hand will tremble,
Thy blush-rose cheeks turn pale,
And, though the mouth dissemble,
Will tell a different tale.
Thy blush-rose cheeks turn pale,
And, though the mouth dissemble,
Will tell a different tale.
Some day, thy form so slender
In ruder arms will twine
The raptures of its splendour,
For lesser nature shine.
In ruder arms will twine
The raptures of its splendour,
For lesser nature shine.
Some day, when shadows darken
Deaf on my downward way,
Those dainty ears will hearken
To what I idly say.
Deaf on my downward way,
Those dainty ears will hearken
To what I idly say.
Some day, thy love, though danger
Around thee shed its gloom,
All lightly for a stranger
Will rush to glorious bloom.
Around thee shed its gloom,
All lightly for a stranger
Will rush to glorious bloom.
Some day, the life I cherish
In honour's heavenly air,
With dreams but born to perish,
For folly will grow fair.
In honour's heavenly air,
With dreams but born to perish,
For folly will grow fair.
397
Some day, thy hope, to languish
In bondage mean and low,
Will dawn and mock my anguish,
Which thou wilt never know.
In bondage mean and low,
Will dawn and mock my anguish,
Which thou wilt never know.
Some day, will troth be spoken,
In which I cannot share,
Though this poor heart is broken,
And thou wilt never care.
In which I cannot share,
Though this poor heart is broken,
And thou wilt never care.
'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||