Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . i Sir, twas all one ! My favour at her breast, i^ The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bou^h of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace—all and each [ Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good thankedSomehow . I know not how . , as if she rankedMy gift of a nine hundred years old nameWith anybodys gift. Who d stoop to blameThis sort of trifling ? Even had you skijlIn speech—(which I have not)^to mak0 yo^r willQui

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Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . i Sir, twas all one ! My favour at her breast, i^ The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bou^h of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace—all and each [ Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good thankedSomehow . I know not how . , as if she rankedMy gift of a nine hundred years old nameWith anybodys gift. Who d stoop to blameThis sort of trifling ? Even had you skijlIn speech—(which I have not)^to mak0 yo^r willQuite clear to such an one, and say Just this,Or that in you disgusts me ; here you miss, Or there exceed the mark —and if she letHerself be lessoned so, nor plainly setHer wits to ^ours, forsooth, and made excuse,—Een then would be some stooping, and I chuseNever to stoop. Oh, Sir, she smiled, no I passed her ; but who passed withoutMuch the same smile ? This grew ; I gave commandsThen all smiles stopped together. There she stands. \ B

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Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904