67
VILLANELLE.
I looked across the garden wall,
And saw her there—I see her yet!
A little thing that played at ball.
And saw her there—I see her yet!
A little thing that played at ball.
What mattered fright? what mattered fall?
I climbed—I broke the peach-tree's net—
I looked across the garden wall,
I climbed—I broke the peach-tree's net—
I looked across the garden wall,
And, curls and pinafore and all,
Beheld her,—never to forget,—
A little thing that played at ball.
Beheld her,—never to forget,—
A little thing that played at ball.
Grave has she grown, discreet and tall,
Since, when the morning dews were wet,
I looked across the garden wall,—
Since, when the morning dews were wet,
I looked across the garden wall,—
