Through the Window

Florence Earle Coates (1850–1927)

Poems — Volume I

THROUGH the window Love looked inFor an instant only,And behold!—a little maidIn the silence lonely.

At his glance, her lily cheekTook the tint of roses,And her lips soft parted, likeA bud that half uncloses.

Gentle tremors filled her breast,And her eyes grew tenderWith a something wistful thatHis presence seemed to lend her.

Ah, 't was strange! Love there looked inFor an instant only,Yet the lass, so lone before,Seemed, methought, less lonely.