Page:Andromeda, and other poems - Kingsley (1858).djvu/114

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102

TO G * * *
A hasty jest I once let fall— As jests are wont to be, untrue— As if the sum of joy to you Were hunt and pic-nic, rout and ball.
Your eyes met mine: I did not blame; You saw it: but I touched too near Some noble nerve; a silent tear Spoke soft reproach, and lofty shame.
I do not wish those words unsaid. Unspoilt by praise and pleasure, you In that one look to woman grew, While with a child, I thought, I played.
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