Daisy Dare.
PART I.
| HRO' scented meadows, where do graze The meek-eyed kine on summer days, At early morn swept Daisy Dare,— Sparkling, graceful, passing fair. |
Sparkling as the dew-drops gleaming
On her path, or sunlight streaming
Through her tresses—graceful, fair,
As naught on earth save Daisy Dare!
Wondrous tresses! sunshine fades
Mid floating curls and sumptuous braids,—
A crown of light that glorifies
White brow and deep impassioned eyes.
Full, perfect, tempting were her lips—
The bee or humming-bird that sips
From scarlet blossoms in the South
Beguiled might be by such a mouth.
Her path ran by a rushing stream
Which, like a crooked silver seam,
Bound that green meadow to a wood,
Where soon with Graham Lee she stood.
Softly through arching forest-trees
Came stealing up a fresh salt breeze;
One fair cheek kissing, till it burned
Like to the other Lee-ward turned.
"Daisy," he said, "I sail to-day
For India, with Captain Gray;
Will you not be upon the strand
To say 'farewell'—to wave your hand?"
"Yes; I will go to see you sail:"
The tone was proud—her cheek turned pale;
"I've promised to be there and say
A parting word to Allen Gray."
The strong man's cheek grew white as death
As thus, with short, unsteady breath,
He said: "When last I went to sea,
You waved, nay, kissed your hand to me."
Her eyes flashed, smiling on him then—
Such eyes hold fiery, earnest men
In bondage, and to love beguile,
Whether they mock, or weep, or smile.
"Yes; I remember then to you
I kissed my hand; but here are two:
Can I not still kiss this one, pray,
To you, and this to Allen Gray?"
"Oh, do not mock me, Daisy Dare,
With your small hands so soft and fair."