YOU gave me a geranium leaf— A little thing, but full of meaning; When inclination's half belief, The token made it worth the gleaning. Last night your hand was clasped in mine, 'Twas but the pressure of a minute, And yet, by some mysterious sign, A red rose blushed to birth within it! Oh! rather pluck for me, fair child, A branch of cypress or of willow; My days are bleak, my thoughts are wild, I am but sea-weed on the billow. For me nor love, nor home, nor wife Can ever be a curse or blessing— The envious riddle of my life Would puzzle half your days in guessing. A week—a moth—perchance a year, You might remember how you met me, And then, with neither smile nor tear, 'Twill be so easy to forget me. With you the world is frolic May, With me, 'tis many a month of weeping— And you'll be dancing, Elsie Gay, When I am in the valley sleeping. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR CHARLIE'S SAKE by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER THE SPROUTING BOARD by AL-ISRA'ILI CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF CULLODEN by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE REASON by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) MY HIDING PLACE AND ME by BARBARA BROOKS BIXLEY A LETTER TO HER HUSBAND by ANNE BRADSTREET |