--
We would let it all go by;
We now would have bolder meetings,
'Neath her father's very eye.
She took my arm as we idled,
And talked of our love once more,
And how, with her basket of flowers,
She had passed the street before;
We tarried long in the moonlight,
And kissed good-night at her door.
XX.
KISSES AND A RING.
I never behold the sea
Rush up to the hand of the shore,
And with its vehement lips
Kiss its down-dropt whiteness o'er,
But I think of that magic night,
When my lips, like waves on a coast,
Broke over the moonlit hand
Of her that I love the most.
I never behold the surf
Lit by the sun into gold,
Curl and glitter and gleam,
In a ring-like billow rolled,
But I think of another ring,
A simple, delicate band,
That in the night of our troth
I placed on a darling hand.
XXI.
AN ENEMY MAY BE SERVED, EVEN THROUGH MISTAKE, WITH PROFIT.
I was walking down the sidewalk,
When up, with flying mane,
Two iron-black steeds came spurning
The ground in wild disdain;
I caught them in an instant,
And held them by the rein.
It seems the man had fainted
In his elegant coupe;
I saw his face a moment,
And then I turned away,
Wishing my steps had led me
Through other streets that day.
Some one who saw the rescue
Afterward told him my name.
For the first in many a season,
Beneath our roof he came.
I said I was deserving
Little of praise or blame.
It was my uncle's face in the carriage;
He made regret of the past;
No more of my love or wishes
Would he be the iconoclast;
On a gala night at his mansion
We should learn to be friends at last.
XXII.
HELIOTROPE.
Let my soul and thine commune,
Heliotrope.
O'er the way I hear the swoon
Of the music; and the moon,
Like a moth above a bloom,
Shines upon the world below.
In God's hand the world we know,
Is but as a flower in mine.
Let me see thy heart divine
Heliotrope.
Thy rare odor is thy soul,
Heliotrope.
Could I save the golden bowl,
And yet change my soul to yours,
I would do so for a day,
Just to hear my neighbors say:
"Lo! the spirit he immures
Is as fragrant as a flower;
It will wither in an hour;
Surely he has stol'n the bliss,
For we know the odor is
Heliotrope."
Have you love and have you fear,
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