Blue and Purple by Francis Neilson - HTML preview

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TO A PHOTOGRAPH

HOW sceptical you look tonight:

There is a sneer about your lips—

A moth is near them—see! it sips,

And now rejoicing takes to flight.

Oh moth, I envy you that kiss;

My lips are arid strangers now.

Oh, I would take to flight, I vow,

If I could revel in such bliss.

Why do you look at me and frown?

What have I done but love you well?

Does she love me? Come, picture, tell—

The moth returns, and flutters down

Upon that blessed wavy hair.

Oh, how I love each scented strand!

How oft my lips would make a band

To capture in a kiss, ensnare

A lock of that dear crown of yours!

Ah, well, be vexed with me, severe.

Those eyes have never shed a tear;

They follow me on restless tours,

While I the night pace to and fro,

Hour after hour, to pass away

The dreary time before the day.

Your eyes upon these journeys go,

Watching, sternly. Picture, tell me—

What sphinx are you? Speak once and show

Some sign of pleasure. Let me know

If you would from my company

Be gone, and choose another one

To be with you each day, each hour;

Resting only—then in my power—

When from the villages I run?

Then cosily you rest between

The folds of my best coat—from grime

And soot set free. At evening time

Alone I leave you here. How mean

Of you to be so petulant!

Not once of late have you beguiled

A moody hour of mine and smiled.

If I have sinned, it was not meant.

Come, now be patient with me, friend.

See, I will coax a smile—I’ll set

You this way—that way—no smile yet?

Just for a moment! Please unbend.

Then I shall turn you now oblique—

Ah! what a change! Your eyes are quite

Like hers—they hold the heavens so bright—

Those stars my lonely soul would seek.

I nearly called you Hebe, then—

You were so like, for just a span,

As o’er your brow vibrations ran.

So they oft do o’er Hebe’s, when

Some mischief, brewing in her mind,

Sends laughter ripples o’er her skin—

Her mirth will out when mischief’s in.

Where might you her resemblance find?

Her laughter is a wondrous sound—

Sorrow, sadness, find their level.

Where do joy and gladness revel?

Ah, where? Where Hebe can be found!

You know her not; yet you are she

Who made you negative. The match

Is sometimes perfect. Did you catch

Her glance when thoughts perhaps of me—

Alas! that could not be. She knew

Me not when you were fashioned, friend,

And never dreamed where you would wend

Mile after mile with me, to rue

The day when you were sent to hear

A million questions. Pity you?

I do! No woman, false or true,

Is in listening long your peer!

Heavens! What have you heard me tell?

What rapture have you witnessed—oft

Despair—at which you ever scoffed?

The gamut—all from heaven to hell—

All passion’s swift vagaries seen—

My longing, pleading, anxious nights,

And day’s distracted hours. What fights

With self, with selfishness between!

Have you seen all, heard all, known all?

Then you must be the wisest sphinx

That wisdom new and ancient links.

But you are silent as a wall

Without a mark. So should it be.

For she must never know what I

When all alone go through.

Now lie

Down flat—there! Let me once more see

Into your eyes, ere to that shore—

Where sleep may be—I go tonight

With thoughts of her, my joy’s delight,

To lull me gently evermore.