Page:Poems Greenwell.djvu/296

But from her lofty place of pride, could that high dame have guessed
The thought that woke, ah, woe betide! in one poor scholar's breast;
That I should dare to look at you! yes, it was boldly done,
The Daughter of the wealthy squire! the vicar's youngest son!

The next time that I saw your face was at the county ball,
There with our County member's son you led off first of all;
Low in the country dance I stood, yet to my ears since then.
There has been music in the sound of "cross hands, back again!"

Yes, you were fair! your sunny hair, I think I see it now,
Rolled back in many a shining curl high from your open brow;
No step so light, no smile so bright, as yours within the ball,
Yet with an air that might declare, the lady of the Hall.

And I went home to dream that night of many a splendid scene.
But through them all, one form, one face shone forth, my fancy's Queen;