We met upon the stepping stones,
She blushed and looked at me;
The river turned its short, sharp moans
Into sweet melody.
I heard the music in my heart,
I said, "Sweet maid, I find
That I will have to turn again,
And let you come behind."
Thereat she hung her dainty head,
The river's melody
Grew sweeter, and methought it said,
"The maid will follow thee."
I turned upon the stepping stone,
The maiden came behind;
She whispered in her sweetest tone,
"Dear sir, but you are kind."
"Nay, nay," I said, and took her hand;
"But shall I turn again,
Or wait until a tender band
Be bound about us twain?"
She hung her head, then, blushing, said,
"Dear sir, but you are kind;
If you will cross the stepping stones,
I will not stay behind."
Alexander Anderson, "The stepping stones".
4 comments:
Cristian, I love this one.
Oddly (but knowing you it's not so odd), it's a real mixture of things. At first glance it looks almost cruel, but look twice and it's as sweet as the padded footstep of a baby bear.
At least that's what I see.
Nice work, love.
Cruel like a frog.
Sweet like a frog.
You C. like a frog.
Nice frog, love.
Once again, I love what you say even when I have no idea what you're saying. That's OK, as long as you understand yourself.
Frogs again, I frog what you say even when I have no frog what you're frogging. That's OK, as long as you frog yourself.
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