The bells :: :: University of Virginia Library

Lillyan sits through April noons
In the shadow of the eaves
Twining flowerets in her hair:
I would be the crumpled leaves
On the breast of Lillyan!
Dainty Lady Lillyan.
Her sweet face haunts me where I rove,
Her sunny glances bless me,
Her gentler smiles caress me,
And, O! my soul's a-flush with love
Of that sad gipsy, Lillyan.

130

Lillyan in a place of flowers
Slept one summer day;
Lillyan did not hear my footsteps
As I passed that way;
And, I wis,
I planted a long nectared kiss
Upon the lips of Lillyan,
The rare-ripe lips of Lillyan!

And she oped her frighted eyes
With a glance of scorn,
For the proudest little Lady
That was ever born
Is this self-same Lillyan,
This dainty darling Lillyan.

Like a shattered April rainbow
Up the skies, I saw the blood go
Through the cheeks of Lillyan;
And then kneeling at her feet,
“Did the kiss I gave thee, Sweet,
Fall on those red lips with such pain?”
She said “Yes! take it back again.”—
O! that roguish Lillyan.