Going to her! Happy letter! Tell her-
Tell her the page I didn’t write;
Tell her I only said the syntax,
And left the verb and pronoun out.
Tell her just how the finger s hurried,
Then how they waded, slow, slow, slow;
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages,
So you could see what moved them so.
Tell her it wasn’t a practiced writer,
You guessed, from the way the sentence toiled
you could hear the bodice tug, behind you,
as if it held but the might of a child;
you almost pitied it, you, it worked so,
tell her- no, you may quibble there,
and then you and I were silenter.
Tell her night finished before we finished,
And the table clock kept neighing “day!”
And you got sleepy and begged to be ended-
What could it hinder, to say?
Tell her, how he sealed you, cautious,
But if she asks where are you hid
Until tomorrow, -happy letter!
Gesture, coquette, and shake your head!’
