Behind the curtain, <br />With glance uncertain, <br />Peeps pet Florence as I gaily ride; <br />Half demurely, <br />But, though purely, <br />Most, most surely <br />Wishing she were riding, riding by my side. <br /> <br />In leafy alleys, <br />Where sunlight dallies, <br />Pleasant were it, bonnie, to be riding rein by rein; <br />And where summer tosses, <br />All about in bosses, <br />Velvet verdant mosses, <br />Still more pleasant, surely, to dismount us and remain. <br /> <br />O thou Beauty! <br />Hanging ripe and fruity <br />At the muslined lattice in the drooping eve, <br />Whisper from the casement <br />If that blushing face meant, <br />``At the cottage basement, <br />Gallant, halt, I come to thee; I come to never leave.'' <br /> <br />But if those coy lashes <br />Stir for whoso dashes <br />Past the scented window in the fading light, <br />Close the lattice, sweetest; <br />Darkness were discreetest; <br />And, with bridle fleetest, <br />I will gallop onwards, unattended, through the Night.<br /><br />Alfred Austin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-lattice/
