Your gown was grey, I recollect,
I think you patronized the sect
They call “æsthetic.”
I brought you strawberries and cream,
I plied you long about a stream
With duckweed laden;
We solemnly discussed the—heat.
I found you shy and very sweet,
A rosebud maiden.
Ah me, to-day! You passed inside
To where the marble gods abide:
Hermes, Apollo,
Sweet Aphrodite, Pan; and where,
For aye reclined, a headless fair
Beats all fairs hollow.
And I, I went upon my way,
Well—rather sadder, let us say;
The world looked flatter.
I had been sad enough before,
A little less, a little more,
What does it matter?
In a Minor Key.
(AN ECHO FROM A LARGER LYRE.)
THAT was love that I had before,
Years ago, when my heart was young;
Ev’ry smile was a gem you wore,
Ev’ry word was a sweet song sung.