Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер)
The New Day. Part 1. 5. Love Grown Bold
This is her picture painted ere mine eyes
Her ever holy face had looked upon.
She sitteth in a silence of her own;
Behind her, on the ground, a red rose lies;
Her thinking brow is bent, nor doth arise
Her gaze from that shut book whose word unknown
Her firm hands hide from her; there all alone
She sitteth in thought-trouble, maidenwise.
And now her lover waiting wondereth
Whether the joy of joys is drawing near;
Shall his brave fingers like a tender breath
That shut book open for her, wide and clear?
From him who her sweet shadow worshipeth
Now will she take the rose, and hold it dear?
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