Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Thomas Ashe. 18361889805. Meet We no Angels, Pansie?
CAME, on a Sabbath noon, my sweet, | |
In white, to find her lover; | |
The grass grew proud beneath her feet, | |
The green elm-leaves above her:— | |
Meet we no angels, Pansie? | 5 |
She said, ‘We meet no angels now’; | |
And soft lights stream’d upon her; | |
And with white hand she touch’d a bough; | |
She did it that great honour:— | |
What! meet no angels, Pansie? | 10 |
O sweet brown hat, brown hair, brown eyes, | |
Down-dropp’d brown eyes, so tender! | |
Then what said I? Gallant replies | |
Seem flattery, and offend her:— | |
But—meet no angels, Pansie? | 15 |