"For Thoughts"
A PANSY on his breast she laid,
Splendid, and dark with Tyrian dyes;
“Take it, 't is like your tender eyes,
Deep as the midnight heaven,” she said.
The rich rose mantling in her cheek,
Before him like the dawn she stood,
Pausing upon Life’s height, subdued,
Yet triumphing, both proud and meek.
And white as winter stars, intense
With steadfast fire, his brilliant face
Bent toward her with an eager grace,
Pale with a rapture half suspense.
“You give me then a thought, O Sweet!”
He cried, and kissed the purple flower,
And bowed by Love’s resistless power,
Trembling he sank before her feet.
She crowned his beautiful bowed head
With one caress of her white hand;
“Rise up, my flower of all the land,
For all my thoughts are yours,” she said.
