A little breathless frightened star;
Each footfall sets my heart abeat,
I always think it may be you,
Stolen in from the street.

My ears are evermore attent,
Waiting in vain for one blest sound--
The little frock, with lilac scent,
That used to whisper up the stair;
Then in my arms with one wild bound--
Your lips, your eyes, your hair.
Never the south wind through the rose,
Brushing its petals with soft hand,
Made such sweet talking as your clothes,
Rustling and fragrant as you came,
And at my aching door would stand--
Then vanish into flame.



CHIPMUNK

Little chipmunk, do you know
All you mean to me?--
She and I and Long Ago,
And you there in the tree;
With that nut between your paws,
Half-way to your twittering jaws,
Jaunty with your stripèd coat,
Puffing out your furry throat,