Opals (Custance)/Flirtation

by Olive Custance

Flirtation

 

Say! are you merely mine to-day—to-morrow,Mine for one rapturous June?Now, in your splendid eyes I see no sign of sorrow,Yet . . . you may sorrow soon!

Say! do you dream of days that will divide us?When sometimes you sit muteHere in the garden where gold sun-flowers tower beside us,Here, where bird voices flute?

Say! do you dream or only droop from pleasureYour delicate flower-like head?Even so a proud pale rose hangs languidly at leisureIts beauty perfected! . . .