A Maiden

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<Helen of Troy and Other Poems

Oh if I were the velvet rose
      Upon the red rose vine,
I'd climb to touch his window
      And make his casement fine.

And if I were the little bird
      That twitters on the tree,
All day I'd sing my love for him
      Till he should harken me.

But since I am a maiden
      I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
      That he has turned to sighs.

And since I am a maiden
      My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
      More red than roses blow.