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A Minor Poet and other Verse. Levy, Amy, 1861–1889.
page: 80

To Lallie.

(Outside the British Museum.)

  • UP those Museum steps you came,
  • And straightway all my blood was flame,
  • O Lallie, Lallie !
  • The world (I had been feeling low)
  • In one short moment’s space did grow
  • A happy valley.
  • There was a friend, my friend, with you ;
  • A meagre dame, in peacock blue
  • Apparelled quaintly ;
  • This poet‐heart went pit‐a‐pat ;
  • I bowed and smiled and raised my hat ;
  • You nodded—faintly.
  • My heart was full as full could be;
  • You had not got a word for me,
  • Not one short greeting ;
page: 81
  • That nonchalant small nod you gave
  • (The tyrant’s motion to the slave)
  • Sole mark’d our meeting.
  • Is it so long ? Do you forget
  • That first and last time that we met ?
  • The time was summer ;
  • The trees were green ; the sky was blue ;
  • Our host presented me to you—
  • A tardy comer.
  • You look’d demure, but when you spoke
  • You made a little, funny joke,
  • Yet half pathetic.
  • Your gown was grey, I recollect,
  • I think you patronized the sect
  • They call “æsthetic.”
  • I brought you strawberries and cream,
  • I plied you long about a stream
  • With duckweed laden ;
  • We solemnly discussed the—heat.
  • I found you shy and very sweet,
  • A rosebud maiden.
page: 82
  • Ah me, to‐day ! You passed inside
  • To where the marble gods abide :
  • Hermes, Apollo,
  • Sweet Aphrodite, Pan ; and where,
  • For aye reclined, a headless fair
  • Beats all fairs hollow.
  • And I, I went upon my way,
  • Well—rather sadder, let us say ;
  • The world looked flatter.
  • I had been sad enough before,
  • A little less, a little more,
  • What does it matter ?