 | Poems of Nature and Love |  |
57
ON A PORTRAIT.
I.
At seventeen she grew betweenHis gaze and some old-world romance:
A face,—seductive and serene
As all that old romance may mean,—
With dark eyes waking from a trance.
At seventeen.
II.
At twenty-one no song might runMore sweetly than his longing leapt
To her,—whose loveliness begun
For him all song beneath the sun,—
With eyes of brown where laughter slept.
At twenty-one.
III.
At thirty-two no dreams would do!—He loved this daughter of the South,
Whose eyes of blue his fancy drew,
What time the battle bugles blew
To dash him on the cannon's mouth.
At thirty-two.
| Poems of Nature and Love | |