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Sir Alexander's Desk
33
I forced the case, and peered within—
It seemed like sacrilege to win
Your secrets dust-encrusted.
Then I undid, with reverent hands,
A parcel from its swathing-bands
Of ribbon, rusted.
From the split, yellow folds there fell
An agate seal—a rose as well,
Half-dust, half-wilted;
Some letters writ on paper thin;
Then, last, a miniature within
A sachet, quilted.
Painted by hand of Cosway, too!
A gracious lady, robed in blue,
Dark-eyed, with ringlets raven,
In a broad rim of garnets set;
'S.C.' beneath a coronet,
At back engraven.
Who was the dainty dame? Is this
A record of forbidden bliss?
Was she another's?
