University of Virginia Library

HERMELIN.

Oh, Love is a sweet-winged thief,
Hermelin!
He stealeth the red from the rose's leaf,
My Hermelin.
He stealeth the light from the azure eye,
The heart from the bosom, and then we die,
Gentle, gentle Hermelin.
He seemed but a sweet-souled child,
Hermelin!
And we trusted his smile and his eyes so mild,
My Hermelin.
And we moulded his words to a daily song;
We trusted,—and ah, we have suffered wrong,
Gentle, gentle Hermelin!

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So, bar out the sweet-winged thief,
Hermelin!
Or your days will be dark and wild and brief,
My Hermelin:
And your spirit will fade, and your tender eye
Will vanish in tears, and—so you'll die,
Gentle, gentle Hermelin!