Page:Poems and lyrics of the joy of earth.djvu/104

Rh Shy as the squirrel that leaps among the pine-tops,
 * Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun,

She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer,
 * Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!

When her mother tends her before the laughing mirror,
 * Tying up her laces, looping up her hair,

Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded,
 * More love should I have, and much less care.

When her mother tends her before the lighted mirror
 * Loosening her laces, combing down her curls,

Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded,
 * I should miss but one for many boys and girls.

Heartless she is as the shadow in the meadows
 * Flying to the hills on a blue and breezy noon.

No, she is athirst and drinking up her wonder:
 * Earth to her is young as the slip of the new moon.