 | The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard |  |
AT THE WINDOW.
I saw him through the window,
When the new moon was in sight,
Come stealing down the garden,
One balmy summer night.
When the new moon was in sight,
Come stealing down the garden,
One balmy summer night.
He tapped upon the window,
“Give me a kiss,” he said;
And straightway I was hidden,
Like a little mouse, in bed.
“Give me a kiss,” he said;
And straightway I was hidden,
Like a little mouse, in bed.
One eye above the bed-clothes
Was, O, so fast asleep;
But the other beneath—it was lucky
He was not there to peep.
Was, O, so fast asleep;
But the other beneath—it was lucky
He was not there to peep.
He called again, as eager
As the stag for cooling brooks,
Or the bee that in the lilies
For golden honey looks.
As the stag for cooling brooks,
Or the bee that in the lilies
For golden honey looks.
The silence of my chamber—
It almost made me start,
For nothing there betrayed me,
But the beating of my heart.
It almost made me start,
For nothing there betrayed me,
But the beating of my heart.
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He knocked, and called, and called me,
And his voice, so clear and sweet,
It pulled away the bed-clothes,
And stood me on my feet!
And his voice, so clear and sweet,
It pulled away the bed-clothes,
And stood me on my feet!
It drew me to the window.
“He must be gone,” I thought.
I raised the window softly,
And peeping out was caught.
“He must be gone,” I thought.
I raised the window softly,
And peeping out was caught.
Was caught and showered with kisses.
How many did he get?
As many as my blushes,
For I am blushing yet!
How many did he get?
As many as my blushes,
For I am blushing yet!
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | |