After the ball; and other poems - Softcover

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1875 edition. Excerpt: ... HALF AN HOUR. I Met her last year, in the studio Of Weymer, in the Rue de Charente; She came in with cheeks all aglow From the wild autumn winds, and bent To my greetings with a flow Of light murmured words, silver sweet, Delicate, flattering phrases, Which my own words sprang forth to meet, As if I believed in her praises, Dropped with a smile at my feet. Courtesy, high-handed, and bred In the translucent blood of her veins: Such a lady! who can flatter, instead Of your flattering her for your pains, Without a change of her cool white and red. Saying, "I've heard of you much "--Smiling--" and glad thus to meet"; While her hand's tender touch Brushed my own, to complete The chaste charm: call it such,.For I knew that it meant nothing more Than the gracious refinement of art; The exquisite odorous core Of a flower, not its heart. What wanted I more? The flower itself for my share? Well, I have it here in my palm, A rose that fell from her hair Into my hand, like a charm, Just as we parted there. And half smiling I took it away,--Half smiling, but was I in jest? "Well, what next? shall I say I have worn it here on my breast Since that red autumn day? Only the swift short half Of a long-drawn hour, An arch phrase or two, and a laugh What is the power?--Did she give me wine to quaff? For, ever I'm seeing a face, Like a face in a delicate dream. Larkspur eyes and rose lips through the lace Of a veil glide and gleam, Till I half lose the trace. Then a turn of the head shows such hair! Black hair like wet silk, Breaking loose from a silken snare, And a hand white as milk Thrusting it back without care. More than a year, you know, And much has happened since then; The world's ebb-tide and flow, And a man's life with men; But I'd let it all go For the...