Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/33

Rh And I like, too, the cloak I saw her wear,

And the red scarf that her white neck doth cover,

And well I like the door that she comes through;

I like the riband that doth bind her hair—

But then, in truth, I am that lady's lover,

And every new day there is something new.

III—"A BARREN STRETCH THAT SLANTS TO THE SALT SEA'S GRAY"

IV—HESITATION

(A PORTRAIT)

I saw the picture of a man

Who, issuing from a wood, doth thrust apart

Strong-matted, thorny branches, whose keen smart

He heeds in nowise, if he only can

Win the red rose a maiden, like a fan,

Holds daintily. She, listening to her heart,

Hath looked another way. Ah, would she start,

And weep, and suffer sorrow, if he ran—