Lilian

I

Airy, Fairy Lilian,

flitting, fairy Lilian,

when I ask her if she love me,

claps her tiny hands above me,

laughing all she can;

she'll not tell me if she love me,

cruel little Lilian.

II

When my passion seeks

pleasance in love-sighs,

she, looking thro' and thro' me

thoroughly to undo me,

smiling, never speaks:

so innocent-arch, so cunning-simple,

from beneath her gathered wimple

glancing with black-bearded eyes,

till the lightning laughters dimple

the baby-roses in her cheeks;

then away she flies.

III

Prythee weep, May Lilian!

Gaiety without eclipse

wearieth me, May Lilian;

thro' my very heart it thrilleth

when from crimson-threaded lips

silver-treble laughter trilleth:

prythee weep, May Lilian!

IV

Praying all I can,

if prayers will not hush thee,

airy Lilian,

like a rose-leaf I will crush thee,

fairy Lilian,

cruel little Lilian.