BETA

A Dialogue.

Dainty little lady,1
Listen, pray, to me ;2
Canst thou ever love me ?3
Canst thou ? say to me.’4
Ere I tell you that, sir,5
You must prove to me6
That my heart with you, sir,7
Safely kept will be.’8
Prudent little lady,9
Thou hast stolen mine,10
Surely, while thou hast it,11
I must value thine.’12
That is proof enough, sir.13
Further would I know14
What about me ’tis, sir,15
Makes you love me so.’16
Simple little lady,17
Hast thou not been told18
That thy silken tresses19
Shine like burnished gold ?’20
Answer that is none, sir ;21
I need scarcely say22
Even golden hair, sir,23
Quickly turns to gray.’24
Modest little lady,25
Clearest summer skies26
Blue, and calm, and cloudless—27
Pale beside thine eyes.’28
Ah ! but you must own, sir,29
Though that may be true,30
Age will never spare, sir,31
Eyes of deepest blue.’32
Cruel little lady,33
Shall I praise thy lips,34
Or thy fairy fingers,35
With their rosy tips ?’36
There will come a day, sir,37
When these hands shall lie38
Quiet, and these lips, sir,39
Never frame reply.’40
Then, my little lady,41
I can only say42
That it was thy goodness43
Stole my heart away.’44
Goodness not my own, sir,45
Given each day anew ;46
Lov’st thou me for that, sir ?47
Then I love thee too.’48