HER WINDOW

Up the gable the roses creep, Eager to get a little peep Behind the curtain of snowy lace That hangs, like a bridal veil, over the face Of a shy wee window, whose panes glint through A network of creepers, like eyes of blue. I needs must stand below, below, And see them high and higher go Till their lips are kissing the lattice sill, And their tendrils toy at their own sweet will With the casement, so full of tender charms Since her shadow has lain within its arms.