Maurine and Other Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
page 59 of 151 (39%)
page 59 of 151 (39%)
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Ere passed the day, while Vivian walked with her.
I had no thought of flirting. Roy was just Like some dear brother, and I quite forgot The kinship was so distant it was not Safe to rely upon in perfect trust, Without reserve or caution. Many a time, When there was some steep mountain-side to climb And I grew weary, he would say, "Maurine, Come rest you here." And I would go and lean My head upon his shoulder, or would stand And let him hold in his my willing hand, The while he stroked it gently with his own. Or I would let him clasp me with his arm, Nor entertained a thought of any harm, Nor once supposed but Vivian was alone In his suspicions. But ere long the truth I learned in consternation! both Aunt Ruth And Helen honestly, in faith, believed That Roy and I were lovers. Undeceived, Some careless words might open Vivian's eyes And spoil my plans. So reasoning in this wise, To all their sallies I in jest replied, To naught assented, and yet naught denied, With Roy unchanged remaining, confident Each understood just what the other meant. If I grew weary of this double part, And self-imposed deception caused my heart |
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