Me, too, she doubtless read. For, with her hand <br />Raised as for help and pointing to a chair, <br />She bade me, with a gesture, part command <br />And part entreaty, I would set her there. <br />She could not see, she said, the Queen of Love <br />My eyes so coveted, and laughed and laid <br />Upon my lips the fingers of her glove <br />When I protested at the words she said. <br />I hardly know how it all came about <br />But did her bidding as she would, and she <br />From her new vantage bore the humour out <br />And mocked the more at each new mockery. <br />And still she held my arm and I her dress, <br />``Lest she should fall,'' she said, in waywardness.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/esther-a-sonnet-sequence-xiv/
