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A poem by Charles Kingsley

To G. A. G.

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Title:     To G. A. G.
Author: Charles Kingsley [More Titles by Kingsley]

A hasty jest I once let fall--
As jests are wont to be, untrue--
As if the sum of joy to you
Were hunt and picnic, rout and ball.

Your eyes met mine: I did not blame;
You saw it: but I touched too near
Some noble nerve; a silent tear
Spoke soft reproach, and lofty shame.

I do not wish those words unsaid.
Unspoilt by praise and pleasure, you
In that one look to woman grew,
While with a child, I thought, I played.

Next to mine own beloved so long!
I have not spent my heart in vain.
I watched the blade; I see the grain;
A woman's soul, most soft, yet strong.

Eversley, 1856.


[The end]
Charles Kingsley's poem: To G. A. G.

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