Poems (Rice)/Impromptu (Were I a gay lover, sweet Eveline dear)

by Maria Theresa Rice

For works with similar titles, see Impromptu.

IMPROMPTU.

WERE I a gay lover, sweet Eveline dear, I'd press to my lips this pattern cashmere; The warp, and the wool, and the color combined, Were blown 'cross the lake by the cold winter wind; There, bathed by the moonlight's soft ray alone, 'Twas found;but O where had the nightingale flown? A part of the plumage, truly how dear—They said it was simply a piece of cashmere: How rudely 'twas torn, it grieved me to see; I'll return it, bright angel, with kisses to thee.