The Lady Eunice puzzled over these.
“G. D.” the young man gravely said. “My name
Is Gervase Deane. Your servant, if you please.”
“Oh, Sir, indeed I know you, for your fame
For exploits in the field has reached my ears.
I did not know you wounded and returned.”
“But just come back, Madam. A silly prick
To gain me such unearned
Holiday making. And you, it appears,
Must be Sir Everard's lady. And my fears
At being caught a-trespassing were quick.”
Pickthorn Manor: 13
Amy Lowell
(1)
Poem topics: holiday, field, young, gain, lady, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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