I pray you, pardon me, Elsie, <br />And smile that frown away <br />That dims the light of your lovely face <br />As a thunder-cloud the day. <br />I really could not help it, <br />Before I thought, 't was done, <br />And those great gray eyes flashed bright and cold, <br />Like an icicle in the sun. <br /> <br />I was thinking of the summers <br />When we were boys and girls, <br />And wandered in the blossoming woods, <br />And the gay winds romped with your curls. <br />And you seemed to me the same little girl <br />I kissed in the alder-path, <br />I kissed the little girl's lips, and alas! <br />I have roused a woman's wrath. <br /> <br />There is not so much to pardon,-- <br />For why were your lips so red? <br />The blond hair fell in a shower of gold <br />From the proud, provoking head. <br />And the beauty that flashed from the splendid eyes, <br />And played round the tender mouth, <br />Rushed over my soul like a warm sweet wind <br />That blows from the fragrant south. <br /> <br />And where, after all, is the harm done? <br />I believe we were made to be gay, <br />And all of youth not given to love <br />Is vainly squandered away. <br />And strewn through life's low labors, <br />Like gold in the desert sands, <br />Are love's swift kisses and sighs and vows <br />And the clasp of clinging hands. <br /> <br />And when you are old and lonely, <br />In Memory's magic shine <br />You will see on your thin and wasting hands, <br />Like gems, these kisses of mine. <br />And when you muse at evening <br />At the sound of some vanished name, <br />The ghost of my kisses shall touch your lips <br />And kindle your heart to flame.<br /><br />John Hay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-it-happened-3/
