Page:Olive Custance - Opals.djvu/23

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Delight

You butterfly!
You singing bird!
You dainty sweet
Sweet woman with the dancing feet!
At sight of you, I know not why,
Strange wistful memories are stirred
In my soul's depths, when you flash by.
I love you at each swift heart beat,
Yet sit and never say a word,
So many thoughts thrill thus unheard.

O! little throat,
So slim and white!

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