I used to love a radiant girl —
Her lips were like a rose leaf torn;
Her heart was as free as a floating curl,
Or a breeze at morn;
Her step as light as a Peri's daughter,
And her eye as soft as gliding water.
Witching thoughts like things half hid
Lurk'd beneath her silken lashes,
And a modest droop of the veined lid
Oft hid their flashes —
But to me the charm was more complete
As the blush stole up its fringe to meet.
Paint me love as a honey bee!
Rosy mouths are things to sip;
Nothing was ever so sweet to me
As Marion's lip —
Till I learned that a deeper magic lies
In kissing the lids of her closed eyes.
Her sweet brow I seldom touch,
Save to part her raven hair;
Her bright cheek I gaze on much,
Her white hand is fair;
But none of these — I've tried them all —
Is like kissing her eyes as the lashes fall.