Maurine and Other Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
page 52 of 151 (34%)
page 52 of 151 (34%)
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And since she's been as you have seen her here.
See how she blushes! so my random shot We must believe has struck a tender spot." Her rippling laughter floated through the room, And redder yet I felt the hot blood rise, Then surge away, to leave me pale as death Under the dark and swiftly gathering gloom Of Vivian's questioning, accusing eyes, That searched my soul. I almost shrieked beneath That stern, fixed gaze, and stood spellbound until He turned with sudden movement, gave his hand To each in turn, and said: "You must not stand Longer, young ladies, in this open door. The air is heavy with a cold, damp chill. We shall have rain to-morrow, or before. Good-night." He vanished in the darkling shade; And so the dreaded evening found an end, That saw me grasp the conscience-whetted blade, And strike a blow for honour and for friend. "How swiftly passed the evening!" Helen sighed. "How long the hours!" my tortured heart replied. Joy, like a child, with lightsome steps doth glide By Father Time, and, looking in his face, Cries, snatching blossoms from the fair roadside, "I could pluck more, but for thy hurried pace." The while her elder brother Pain, man grown, |
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