Eyre Turquand

“ Yet scorn can dwell in those sweet eyes, cold words those lips can speak;
For many, though you’re scarce eighteen, to gain your love would seek.
You wave them off with calm disdain. Have you no heart to give? ”

“ A sunny day in leafy June, white clouds are floating high,
Leisurely through the blue expanse, and bees hum drowsily;
In shady nooks the cattle herd, and ruminating doze,
While onward, with a rippling song, the glancing river flows. ”

“ This token of unfailing love to cheer your loneliness.
“And if,” I ask, “long years should pass, and he should not return,
This tribute of a fleeting love you scornfully would spurn?”
“Never,” she says, with flashing eyes; “time matters not to love ”