Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/365

TO L. H. S. To mould that lissome form undraped

Ere from its grace the sure young lines escaped!

Straight as the aloe's crested shoot

That blooms a golden month and dies,

She stayed an instant, with one foot

On tiptoe, poising statue-wise,

And stared, and mocked us with her eyes,—

While rippling to her hip's firm swell

The mestee hair, that so outvies

Europe's soft mesh, and holds right well

The Afric sheen, in one dark torrent fell.

Fi, Angélique! we heard them scream,—

What, could that child, in twice her years,

Change to their like from this fair dream!

Fi donc!—But she, as one who hears

And cares not, at her leisure nears

The pool, and toward her mates at play

Plunges,—and laughter filled our ears

As from La Source we turned away

And rode again into the glare of day.

TO L. H. S.

, these vagrant songs may woo you

Once again from winter's ruth,—

Once more quicken memories failing

Of those days when we went sailing,

Eager as when first I knew you,

Sailing after my lost youth.

My lost youth, for in my sight you

Had yourself forborne to change

Since that age when we, together,

Made such mock of wind and weather, 335