The same old story told again-- <br />The maiden droops her head, <br />The ripening glow of her crimson cheek <br />Is answering in her stead. <br />The pleading tone of a trembling voice <br />Is telling her the way <br />He loved her when his heart was young <br />In Youth's sunshiny day: <br />The trembling tongue, the longing tone, <br />Imploringly ask why <br />They can not be as happy now <br />As in the days gone by. <br />And two more hearts, tumultuous <br />With overflowing joy, <br />Are dancing to the music <br />Which that dear, provoking boy <br />Is twanging on his bowstring, <br />As, fluttering his wings, <br />He sends his love-charged arrows <br />While merrily be sings: <br />'Ho! ho! my dainty maiden, <br />It surely can not be <br />You are thinking you are master <br />Of your heart, when it is me.' <br />And another gleaming arrow <br />Does the little god's behest, <br />And the dainty little maiden <br />Falls upon her lover's breast. <br />'The same old story told again,' <br />And listened o'er and o'er, <br />Will still be new, and pleasing, too, <br />Till 'Time shall be no more.'<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-same-old-story-3/
