A Maiden


After Spanish Proverb
Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
I’'d climb to touch his window
And make his casement fine.

And if I were the little bird
That twitters on the tree,
All day I’'d sing my love for him
Till he should harken me.

But since I am a maiden
I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
That he has turned to sighs.

And since I am a maiden
My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
More red than roses blow.


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Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; A Minuet Of Mozart's

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