Page:Jewels of Romance.pdf/47



I asked you if you liked the poplar trees, Their slender grace and gentle charm, Enhancing the winding drive like a frieze Of ancient Greece - stately and calm; And for answer you pressed my hand.

I asked you if you liked the rolling lawn, Where the late Fall sun was at play, Casting a loitering shadow upon The quiet pool across the way; And for answer you pressed my hand.

I asked you if you liked at Dawn's first ray To gallop madly o'er the field, Not to return till the glory of day Had passed beneath cool Twilight's shield; And for answer you pressed my hand.

I asked you if, when Twilight's hours have sped, A vague yearning cries in your soul, Craving the warmth of a word yet unsaid, Some rapture you could not control - And for answer you pressed not my hand.