 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
114
THE DIMPLE.
The lines by the arrows of Cupid oppressed,
The soul to the fairest of women addressed;
My love hath the eyes of a fright-stricken doe,
And a voice that is mournfully tender;
And hair that is dark as eternity's flow
And a waist that is witchingly slender;
But ah, what I count her delightfullest charm
Is the dear little dimple she wears in her arm,
A charm,
That fair, precious dimple she wears in her arm!
The soul to the fairest of women addressed;
My love hath the eyes of a fright-stricken doe,
And a voice that is mournfully tender;
And hair that is dark as eternity's flow
And a waist that is witchingly slender;
But ah, what I count her delightfullest charm
Is the dear little dimple she wears in her arm,
A charm,
That fair, precious dimple she wears in her arm!
It loves to coquette with my eagersome eyes,
'Neath its mantle of gossamer laces,
And my lady affects the sincerest surprise
That I praise not her other fair graces;
Aye, vows she is racked with the direst alarm
Lest I too fondly praise that cute spot in her arm;
Alarm
For the round, laughing dimple she wears in her arm.
'Neath its mantle of gossamer laces,
And my lady affects the sincerest surprise
That I praise not her other fair graces;
Aye, vows she is racked with the direst alarm
Lest I too fondly praise that cute spot in her arm;
Alarm
For the round, laughing dimple she wears in her arm.
115
Nay, soothe thy small jealousy, maiden so fair,
And grant me a boon that is simple,
For oh, I'd esteem it a favor most rare,
A kiss on that round laughing dimple!
You surely must know that there's never a harm
In kissing a dimple one wears on the arm;
No harm,
In kissing that dimple that smiles on your arm!
And grant me a boon that is simple,
For oh, I'd esteem it a favor most rare,
A kiss on that round laughing dimple!
You surely must know that there's never a harm
In kissing a dimple one wears on the arm;
No harm,
In kissing that dimple that smiles on your arm!
“Oh, degenerate lover,” methinks she replies,
And I tremble to hear her so speak,
“You may kiss, since your kisses I loftily prize,
This cute little mole on my cheek.
What you think is a dimple, I pray you be calm,
Is an old vaccination scar deep in my arm,
Be calm!
It's an old vaccination you see on my arm!
And I tremble to hear her so speak,
“You may kiss, since your kisses I loftily prize,
This cute little mole on my cheek.
What you think is a dimple, I pray you be calm,
Is an old vaccination scar deep in my arm,
Be calm!
It's an old vaccination you see on my arm!
November 5th, 1881.
| A little book of tribune verse | |