ANNIE'S DAUGHTER.
99
And the face that was fond, and foolish, and fair,
And the golden grace of the floating hair,
And the lips where the glad smiles came and went,
And the lashes that shaded the eyes' content.
And the golden grace of the floating hair,
And the lips where the glad smiles came and went,
And the lashes that shaded the eyes' content.
I remember the pledge of the red young lips
And the shy, soft touch of the finger-tips,
And the kisses I stole, and the words we spoke,
And the ring I gave, and the coin we broke,
And the love that never should change or fail
Though the earth stood still or the stars turned pale,
And again I stand, when I see these eyes,
A glad young Fool, in my Paradise.
And the shy, soft touch of the finger-tips,
And the kisses I stole, and the words we spoke,
And the ring I gave, and the coin we broke,
And the love that never should change or fail
Though the earth stood still or the stars turned pale,
And again I stand, when I see these eyes,
A glad young Fool, in my Paradise.
For the earth and the stars remained as of old,
But the love that had been so warm grew cold.
Was it She? Was it I?—I don't remember:
Then it was June, —it is now December.
But the love that had been so warm grew cold.
Was it She? Was it I?—I don't remember:
Then it was June, —it is now December.
