'And I,' he replied, 'have my wishes too:
Time teaches the real meaning of things;
And only this moment, looking at you,
I felt that an angel need not have wings.'
We had sauntered on to the garden gate:
He look'd in my eyes ere we turn'd to part:
I walk'd away in a manner sedate,
And with something new just touching my heart.
When the first violet open'd in bloom,
Was it surpris'd at its lovely perfume?