"Roses and Rue", page 1
"Roses and Rue."
Autograph manuscript signed, ca. 1884–1885. 4 p.
Gift of Lucia Moreira Salles, 2008
Page 1
I remember we used to meet
By the1 garden seat,
And you warbled each pretty word
With the air of a bird,
And your voice had a quaver in it,
Just like a linnet,
And shook with the last full note,
As the thrushe's2 throat.
And your eyes, they were green and gray,
Like an April day,
But lit into amethyst
When I stooped, and kissed.
And your hair, —well, I never could tie it,
For it ran all riot,
Like a tangled sunbeam of gold,
Great fold on3 fold!
1 For publication, "the" was changed to "a."
2 For publication, "thrushe's" was changed to "thrush's."
3 For publication, "on" was changed to "upon."
"Roses and Rue", page 2
"Roses and Rue."
Autograph manuscript signed, ca. 1884–1885. 4 p.
Gift of Lucia Moreira Salles, 2008
Page 2
II
You were allways afraid of a shower
(Just like a flower!)
I remember you started and ran
When the rain began,
I remember I never could catch you
For no one could match you,
You had wonderful luminous fleet
Little wings to your feet.
Yet you someway4 would give me the prize,
With a laugh in your eyes,
The rose5 from your breast, or the bliss
Of a single swift kiss
On your neck with it's6 marble hue,
And it's vein of blue, —
How these passionate memories bite
In my heart, as I write!
4 For publication, "someway" was changed to "somehow."
5 For publication, a comma was added after "rose."
6 For publication, "it's" was changed to "its."
"Roses and Rue", page 3
"Roses and Rue."
Autograph manuscript signed, ca. 1884–1885. 4 p.
Gift of Lucia Moreira Salles, 2008
Page 3
III
I remember so well the room,
And the lilac bloom,
That beat at the dripping pane
In the warm June rain.
And the colour of your gown,
It was amber-brown,
And two little satin bows
From your shoulders rose,
And the handkerchief of French lace,
Which you held to your face, —
Had a tear-drop left a stain?
Or was it the rain?
"You have only wasted your life,"
(Ah! there was the knife,)
Those were the words you said,
As you turned your head.
"Roses and Rue", page 4
"Roses and Rue."
Autograph manuscript signed, ca. 1884–1885. 4 p.
Gift of Lucia Moreira Salles, 2008
Page 4
I had wasted my boyhood, true,
But it was for you,
You had poets enough on the shelf,
I gave you myself!
IV.
Well, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know;
Poets' hearts break so.
But strange that I was not told,
That the brain can hold
In a tiny ivory cell
God's Heaven and Hell.
Oscar Wilde