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.