A FANTASY.
If you were a white rose Columbine
And I were a Harlequin,
I'd leap and sway on my spangled hips
And blow you a kiss with my finger tips
To woo a smile to your petal lips
At every glittering spin.
If I were a pig-tailed Buccaneer
And you were a Bristol Girl,
A-rolling home from over the sea
I'd give you a hug on the landing quay,
A hook-nosed parrot that swore like me,
And a brooch of mother-o'-pearl.
If you were a Donna of old Castile
And a Troubadour were I,
I'd sing at night beneath your room
And weave you dreams in a minstrel's loom
With rainbow tears and the roses' bloom
And star-shine out of the sky.
If I were a powdered Exquisite
And you were a fair Bellairs,
I'd press your hand in the gay pavane;
And whisper under your painted fan
As I bowed you into your blue sedan
At the old Assembly stairs.
If you were a Watteau Shepherdess
And I were a gipsy lad,
I'd teach you tunes that the blackbird trills
And show you the dance of the daffodils,
The white moon rising over the hills,
And Night in her jewels clad.
If you were the Queen of Make-believe
And I were a Prince o' Dream,
We'd dress the world in a rich romance
With Pans a-piping and Queens that dance,
With plume and mantle and rapier glance
And Beauty's eyes a-gleam.
If I were a Poet, sweet, my own,
And you were my Lady true,
I'd hymn your praise by night and morn
With golden notes through a silver horn
That unborn men in an age unborn
Might glow with a dream of you!