Poetry Archives

“Within the arbour, Mynheer Breuck, I’ll bring
Coffee and cakes, a pipe, and Father’s best
Tobacco, brought from countries harbouring
Dawn’s earliest footstep.  Wait.”  With girlish zest
To please her guest she flew.  A moment more
She came again, with her old nurse behind.
Then, sitting on the bench and knitting fast,
She talked as someone with a noble store
Of hidden fancies, blown upon the wind,
Eager to flutter forth and leave their silent past.