102
TO G * * *
A hasty jest I once let fall—
As jests are wont to be, untrue—
As if the sum of joy to you
Were hunt and pic-nic, rout and ball.
As jests are wont to be, untrue—
As if the sum of joy to you
Were hunt and pic-nic, rout and ball.
Your eyes met mine: I did not blame;
You saw it: but I touched too near
Some noble nerve; a silent tear
Spoke soft reproach, and lofty shame.
You saw it: but I touched too near
Some noble nerve; a silent tear
Spoke soft reproach, and lofty shame.
I do not wish those words unsaid.
Unspoilt by praise and pleasure, you
In that one look to woman grew,
While with a child, I thought, I played.
Unspoilt by praise and pleasure, you
In that one look to woman grew,
While with a child, I thought, I played.
