Morns like these – we parted –
Noons like these – she rose –
Flutterring first – then firmer
To her fair repose.

Never did she lisp it –
It was not for me –
She – was mute from transport –
I – from agony –

Till – the evening nearing
One the curtains drew –
Quick! A sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!
So has a Daisy vanished

From the fields today –

So tiptoed many a slipper

To paradise away –