Words for the Hour/A Maid's Requisition
A MAID'S REQUISITION.
Dare not tell me coldly that you love me,Smiling calm, with glittering eyes and teeth;You might speak it, bending close above me,With a brow suffused, and failing breath.
Is there nought of trouble and commotionIn these words, where hope and madness meet?Deep convulsions shake the heart of oceanWhen his wavelets kiss beloved feet.
Stars that shed their messages of beautyPrisoned in the deep, impassive night?Speak they cold and calm as Fate and Duty?Nay—they throb out sentences of light,
But is't true, and am I better, dearerThan Life's blossoms that around thee fall?Never deem that words can make it clearer—Let me feel it—tell it not at all.