 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
797
QUEEN OF THE GIPSIES.
Brown as a berry,
Stately and tall,
Beautiful very,
Mistress of all;
Ah, she is queen of the gipsies, and goes
Hither and thither, and never finds foes
Finds none but friends in the lofty and least,
Playmate of Nature, the bird and the beast;
Each is aspirant,
Gladly to crown
Her, as sweet tyrant,
Beautiful brown.
Stately and tall,
Beautiful very,
Mistress of all;
Ah, she is queen of the gipsies, and goes
Hither and thither, and never finds foes
Finds none but friends in the lofty and least,
Playmate of Nature, the bird and the beast;
Each is aspirant,
Gladly to crown
Her, as sweet tyrant,
Beautiful brown.
Willowy, slender,
Perfect in plan.
Touched with a splendour
Hardly of man;
Star of the evening she moves, at her feet
Stones turn to kisses her passage to greet;
Over dark eyes fall dark lashes, and hide
Wonderful visions of womanly pride;
Sunny, not serious
Even her frown,
Softly imperious,
Beautiful, brown.
Perfect in plan.
Touched with a splendour
Hardly of man;
Star of the evening she moves, at her feet
Stones turn to kisses her passage to greet;
Over dark eyes fall dark lashes, and hide
Wonderful visions of womanly pride;
Sunny, not serious
Even her frown,
Softly imperious,
Beautiful, brown.
Born in a hovel—
Though crownèd queen,
Truer in novel
Nowhere were seen;
Royalty breathes in each gesture, and grace
Not of kings' palaces gives to her face—
Gives to the poetry framed in her form,
Calm of the Sabbath and strength of the storm
Wild as a plover
Haunting the down,
Won by no lover,
Beautiful, brown.
Though crownèd queen,
Truer in novel
Nowhere were seen;
Royalty breathes in each gesture, and grace
Not of kings' palaces gives to her face—
Gives to the poetry framed in her form,
Calm of the Sabbath and strength of the storm
Wild as a plover
Haunting the down,
Won by no lover,
Beautiful, brown.
Brown as a berry,
Ripe without art,
Beautiful very,
Outward from heart;
Child of the moorland, and maidenly kind
Ever to others and free as the wind,
Taught but by labour and knowing not fear.
Yet unashamed of an innocent tear;
Dust of her toiling
Jewels the gown,
Noble with soiling,
Beautiful, brown.
Ripe without art,
Beautiful very,
Outward from heart;
Child of the moorland, and maidenly kind
Ever to others and free as the wind,
Taught but by labour and knowing not fear.
Yet unashamed of an innocent tear;
Dust of her toiling
Jewels the gown,
Noble with soiling,
Beautiful, brown.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |