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A Vers de Société Anthology

by Carolyn Wells

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Her Neighbours

THEY lingered at her father’s door,
The moon was shining bright,
And to the maiden o’er and o’er
The youth had said, “Good night.”

But still reluctant to depart,
Her tiny hand he pressed,
While all the love that filled his heart
His ardent looks confessed.

At length she closer to him crept,
Her eyes upon him bent,
And softly asked, “How have you kept,
Thus far, the fast of Lent?”

He smiled, and, as a manly arm
Around her waist he threw,
He said, “I’ve done no neighbour harm—
Pray, tell me, how have you?”

“Oh! better far, I’m sure,” she said,
The charming little elf.
“I’ve loved (she blushed and bent her head)
My neighbour as myself.”

“Who is your neighbour?” questioned he,
As to his breast he drew
The gentle maid, and blushing, she
With one word answered—“You.”

Anonymous.

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