Flirtation
Say! are you merely mine to-day—to-morrow,
Mine for one rapturous June?
Now, in your splendid eyes I see no sign of sorrow,
Yet . . . you may sorrow soon!
Mine for one rapturous June?
Now, in your splendid eyes I see no sign of sorrow,
Yet . . . you may sorrow soon!
Say! do you dream of days that will divide us?
When sometimes you sit mute
Here in the garden where gold sun-flowers tower beside us,
Here, where bird voices flute?
When sometimes you sit mute
Here in the garden where gold sun-flowers tower beside us,
Here, where bird voices flute?
Say! do you dream or only droop from pleasure
Your delicate flower-like head?
Even so a proud pale rose hangs languidly at leisure
Its beauty perfected! . . .
Your delicate flower-like head?
Even so a proud pale rose hangs languidly at leisure
Its beauty perfected! . . .
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