My Little Lady in Blue — Clara Augusta Jones Trask

My Little Lady in Blue!I follow her down the street,And look in the sand for the dainty print,The winsome print of her feet,—Feet so charmingly, cunningly fleet,—Gaiters but number two!My heart leaps up at sound of her step,And beats a noisy tattoo!Airiest, fairest, sweetest, and best!My Little Lady in Blue.

Cheeks like the roses of Spain!Hair in ringlets of gold,—Tossing and waving at every step,Billows of sunlight unrolled!Hands like the fluttering leaf of a lily,Graceful, stainless in hue,White, aristocratic, small hands,Shared by the favored few!Never were hands, in all the wide world,Like those of My Lady in Blue!

Singing birds, in the trees,Chant their merriest songWhen this little witch of a girlComes lightly tripping along!Would I were the balmy west wind!I'd sail the purple voids through,And rest in the shadow made by her curls,And taste of her crimson lips' dew;And the envying world should look on meAnd My Little Lady in Blue!