Poems (Scudder)/Sirvente

by Antoinette Quinby Scudder

SIRVENTE

This summer eve
A sad coquette must be—
She wears such dainty pink, and for the patch
On a court-lady's cheek displays
The crescent moon.

And when she hears
How loverlike the wind
Goes sighing—then how slyly glimmers like
The dimple near a maiden's lip
One tiny star.