 | Poems in many lands |  |
47
BELLA DONNA.
Two tear-drops of the bluest seas
Were prisoned in those laughing eyes,
And soft as wind in summer trees
The music of her low replies;
A sunbeam caught entangled there
Makes light in all her golden hair;
Were prisoned in those laughing eyes,
And soft as wind in summer trees
The music of her low replies;
A sunbeam caught entangled there
Makes light in all her golden hair;
The wild rose where the wild bees sip
Is not so delicate as this,
And yet that little rose-curled lip
Is very poisonous to kiss,
And they were stars of wintry skies
That lit the lustre in her eyes.
Is not so delicate as this,
And yet that little rose-curled lip
Is very poisonous to kiss,
And they were stars of wintry skies
That lit the lustre in her eyes.
And she will smile and bid you stay
And love a little at her will,
And love a little—and betray
But smile as ever sweetly still;
She knows that roses fade away,
To-morrows turn to yesterday.
And love a little at her will,
And love a little—and betray
But smile as ever sweetly still;
She knows that roses fade away,
To-morrows turn to yesterday.
48
She walks the smooth and easy ways
Apparelled in her queenly dress,
She hears no word that is not praise,
And ever of her loveliness;
And she will kill, that cannot hate,
Dispassionately passionate.
Apparelled in her queenly dress,
She hears no word that is not praise,
And ever of her loveliness;
And she will kill, that cannot hate,
Dispassionately passionate.
| Poems in many lands | |