Etchings in Verse (Underhill)/A Proposal
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A PROPOSAL.
LITTLE red slippers daintily peeping
Out 'neath the skirt of superlative white;
Soft, clinging draperies wantonly sleeping
Close to her form in the dim fire-light.
Out 'neath the skirt of superlative white;
Soft, clinging draperies wantonly sleeping
Close to her form in the dim fire-light.
Hair of the hue long ago loved by Titian,
Tinted with gleams of the warm sun-set fire;
Blue eyes—so blue!—Ah, were they a vision!
Lips red as wine from the cup of Desire.
Tinted with gleams of the warm sun-set fire;
Blue eyes—so blue!—Ah, were they a vision!
Lips red as wine from the cup of Desire.
Little fair hands on which gems sparkle faintly;
Roses of June in the cheeks' changing dyes;
Teeth, pearly white, from the mouth peeping quaintly;
Long, drooping lashes just shading the eyes.
Roses of June in the cheeks' changing dyes;
Teeth, pearly white, from the mouth peeping quaintly;
Long, drooping lashes just shading the eyes.
Languid she leans in the fauteuil reclining.
Shadow enshrouds her, and soft, subdued light.
Silence has fallen. Ah, dreams she I'm pining
To know if she loves me?—I'll ask her to-night!
Shadow enshrouds her, and soft, subdued light.
Silence has fallen. Ah, dreams she I'm pining
To know if she loves me?—I'll ask her to-night!
"Imogene, dearest—Look up to me, chèrie—
I've something to tell you—"A sigh long and deep.
"I love you! Just say"—This is very strange—very.
"Imogene!—D—n it! the woman's asleep!".
I've something to tell you—"A sigh long and deep.
"I love you! Just say"—This is very strange—very.
"Imogene!—D—n it! the woman's asleep!".