A Love-Song.

A poem by Henry Austin Dobson


When first in CELIA'S ear I poured
A yet unpractised pray'r,
My trembling tongue sincere ignored
The aids of "sweet" and "fair."
I only said, as in me lay,
I'd strive her "worth" to reach;
She frowned, and turned her eyes away,--
So much for truth in speech.

Then DELIA came. I changed my plan;
I praised her to her face;
I praised her features,--praised her fan,
Her lap-dog and her lace;
I swore that not till Time were dead
My passion should decay;
She, smiling, gave her hand, and said
'Twill last then--for a DAY.

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