[The why of a blush, in] Poetry of America selections from one hundred American poets from 1776 to 1876 |
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 | [The why of a blush, in] Poetry of America |  |
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THE WHY OF A BLUSH.
Two maples by the cottage porch
Grew crimson in the sunset light;
Was it their leaves' reflected glow
Which made her perfect face so bright?
Grew crimson in the sunset light;
Was it their leaves' reflected glow
Which made her perfect face so bright?
I led her gently down the steps,
And down the pathway's flickering shade,
But still o'er tender cheek and brow
The same deep radiance warmly play'd.
And down the pathway's flickering shade,
But still o'er tender cheek and brow
The same deep radiance warmly play'd.
“Enough, O Sweet!” I whisper'd low;
“That heart is mine I yearn'd to win:
No sunset flush, but love's pure dawn,
Breaks from the kindled soul within!”
“That heart is mine I yearn'd to win:
No sunset flush, but love's pure dawn,
Breaks from the kindled soul within!”
| [The why of a blush, in] Poetry of America | |