WHERE SHE IS NOW

by: W.H. Davies

HERE she is now, I cannot say--

The world has many a place of light:

Perhaps the sun's eyelashes dance

On hers, to give them both delight;

Or does she sit in some green shade,

And then the air, that lies above,

Can with a hundred pale blue eyes

Look through the leaves and find my Love?

 

Perhaps she dreams of life with me,

Her cheek upon her finger-tips:

O that I could leap forward now,

Behind her back, and with my lips

Break through those curls above her nape,

That hover close and lightly there--

To prove if they are substance, or

But shadows of her lovely hair.

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