Her young voice haunts my eager ear;
Her hair in the candle-light
Still seems an aureole,--a tear
Is my spectroscope to-night.

I hear her trembling tell me "No,"
And I know that she answered right
But I throw a kiss to the stars, and though
She be wed she will dream to-night.




The Kiss

Over the green fields, over the snow,
Something I send thee, something I throw.
No one can guess it; no one can know.

Light as a feather, quick as the eye;
Thin as a sunbeam, deep as the sky;
Worthless, but something a queen could not buy.

Ah, you have caught it, love! How do I know?
Sweet, there are secrets lost ages ago.
Lovers learn all of them. Smile not,--'tis so.