Is still more potent that a poetess,
With any extreme republican. Ah, ah,
You smile at last, then.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Leave the smile,
I’ll lose the thanks for’t,—ay, and throw you in
My transatlantic girl, with golden eyes,
That draw you to her splendid whiteness, as
The pistil of a water-lily draws,
Adust with gold. Those girls across the sea
Are tyrannously pretty,—and I swore
(She seemed to me an innocent, frank girl)
To bring her to you for a woman’s kiss,
Not now, but on some other day or week:
—We’ll call it perjury; I give her up.’
‘No, bring her.’
‘Now,’ said he, ‘you make it hard
To touch such goodness with a grimy palm.
I thought to tease you well, and fret you cross,
And steel myself, when rightly vexed with you,
For telling you a thing to tease you more.’
‘Of Romney?’
‘No, no; nothing worse,’ he cried,
‘Of Romney Leigh, than what is buzzed about,—
That he is taken in an eye-trap too,
Like many half as wise. The thing I mean
Refers to you, not him.’
‘Refers to me,’
