 | The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich |  |
141
THE LUNCH
A gothic window, where a damask curtainMade the blank daylight shadowy and uncertain;
A slab of rosewood on four eagle-talons
Held trimly up and neatly taught to balance;
A porcelain dish, o'er which in many a cluster
Black grapes hung down, dead-ripe and without lustre;
A melon cut in thin, delicious slices;
A cake that seemed mosaic-work in spices;
Two China cups with golden tulips sunny,
And rich inside with chocolate like honey;
And she and I the banquet-scene completing
With dreamy words, and fingers shyly meeting.
| The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich | |