 | Young Maids & Old China |  |
MAIDEN KISSES.
Her window opens to the South,
And on a Summer morn she stands,
And blows soft kisses from her mouth
Southward to Summer lands.
And on a Summer morn she stands,
And blows soft kisses from her mouth
Southward to Summer lands.
Like swallows to the South they fly,
O'er waving waters, waving woods:
Great ships they pass, and cities, by,
And men of various moods.
O'er waving waters, waving woods:
Great ships they pass, and cities, by,
And men of various moods.
But where they find some heart forlorn,
Of man or maiden, there they rest;
And Hope, he knows not how, is born
In that world-weary breast.
Of man or maiden, there they rest;
And Hope, he knows not how, is born
In that world-weary breast.
O Maiden of a picture-book!
You seem not all a dream to me;—
While at the pictured page I look,
Some living maid, maybe,
You seem not all a dream to me;—
While at the pictured page I look,
Some living maid, maybe,
At such a rose-wreathed casement stands,
And breathes for men unknown her prayer,
In perilous seas or pathless lands,
And saves them, unaware.
And breathes for men unknown her prayer,
In perilous seas or pathless lands,
And saves them, unaware.
| Young Maids & Old China | |