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JULIET.
If a maidenOwned such a silver-lettered name as this,
She should be lovely as a summer's eve,
All sun and softness; if she spake, her words
Should fall like lute-tones on the eager ear,
Till silence should be sorrow, and her voice
The spell to make it joy; her lighted eye
Should beam only with love; there on his throne
Love like a king should reign; her eloquent lips
Should whisper only love, and part asunder
Only to meet in kisses; if the wind
Startled her silky tresses from the neck
Where they slept lovingly, it should but be
To make them cling more lovingly and close;
And if she smiled, her smile should be a heaven
So bright, so witching-wonderful, that men
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To look and long, and live and die for it.
And if she loved, oh! it should be so truly,
So deeply, so soul-earnestly! as if
A thousand hearts had lent their love to her,
And poured the full tide of their fond affections
Into her bursting bosom.
Poems | ||