XXXII RICHMOND PARK
Reading edition
i
What do I want with your little, shrinking love? See, I have a star in my hand, that I snatched from the blue above, I have the moon under my arm; and dreams in my heart, that cry And, look, the glow of my city, my home—like blood-red fire in the sky! You cannot bind me with cords, while you give or withhold little kisses, I will fly off and forget.... Ah!
ii
How can you tell? you say—your heart cries “wait”: You will not answer now, it grows so late— And I stand, hungry, by your small, green gate! Dear, if you would but trust love’s whispered word! Listen a little while—you turn away. What? Your head droops.... You are frightened! Run in and hide....