Lovers, forget your love,

And list to the love of these,

She a window flower,

And he a winter breeze.

 

When the frosty window veil

Was melted down at noon,

And the caged yellow bird

Hung over her in tune.

 

He marked her through the pane,

He could not help but mark,

And only passed her by,

To come again at dark.

 

He was a winter wind,

Concerned with ice and snow,

Dead weeds and unmated birds

And little of life could know.

 

But he signed upon the sill,

He gave the sash a shake,

As witness all within

Who lay that night awake.

 

Perchance he half prevailed

To win her for the fight

From firelit looking glass

And warm stove-window light

 

But the flower leaned aside

And thought of naught to say,

And morning found the breeze

A hundred miles away.

 

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