Passion-Flowers (Howe)/Coquette et Tendre

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COQUETTE ET TENDRE.
To mine arm so closely clinging,Looking, lingering in mine eyes;Say, what hidden thought is bringingChange of cheek and smothered sighs?
Oft I think thine hands caress meWith each object that they yield,And the glances that repress meSidelong, lure me to the field.
Dost thou own a secret pleasureWhen our thoughts half-uttered meet?And what calculations measureThese, thy tactics of retreat?
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Seeking, still thou seem'st to shun me,Turning hence, our looks still blend;Waste no further spell upon me—Come—what would'st thou of thy friend?
Not too deeply would I task thee,Censure none thy woman's art;Ask thyself the things I ask thee,Fathom thine own doubting heart.
ANSWER.
'T is a trick of ancient learning Riper age effaceth not,Youth's warm impulses returning, Sage-eyed prudence is forgot.
Ere I knew life's sober meaning, Nature taught me simple wiles,Gave this color, rising, waning, Gave these shadows, deepening smiles;
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More she taught me, sighing, singing, Taught me free to think and move,Taught this fond, instinctive clinging To the helpful arm of love.
If there's evil in my bosom, Aid thou me to keep it down;Show the worm within the blossom, I, like thee, will shrink and frown.
Is our jesting then so fateful? I'll be colder if I must;Do not chide that I am grateful, Dare not mock my childish trust.
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