 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
18
BROWN AND RED.
FIRST VERSION.
“What can I do to please you?” answer thenWas wanting, lady, I will tell you now;
Let my poor poems round about your brow
Wave as a wreath of flowers, or as when
In a tiara jewels twice times ten
Flash like red fruits that 'tween the branches bow,
Accept my service, this my gift allow,
The first aspiring produce of my pen;
I plucked, sweet, I remember once for you
A tiny plant with tender separate leaves
Of red, that olden gift I would renew,
My poem is successful if it weaves
Itself within your memory, and achieves
A proud position, peeping brown hair through.
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