Helen of Troy and Other Poems/A Maiden

by Sara Teasdale

 

A MAIDEN

OH if I were the velvet rose
⁠Upon the red rose vine,
I'd climb to touch his window
⁠And make his casement fine.

And if I were the little bird
⁠That twitters on the tree,
All day I'd sing my love for him
⁠Till he should harken me.

But since I am a maiden
⁠I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
⁠That he has turned to sighs.

And since I am a maiden
⁠My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
⁠More red than roses blow.