Caprice
A
Arthur Symons
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Her mouth is all of roses,
Her eyes are violets;
And round her cheek at hide and seek
Love plays among the roses
That dimple on her cheek.
Her heart is all caprices,
Her will is yea and nay;
And with a smile can she beguile
My heart to the caprices
That dance upon her smile.
Her looks are merely sunshine,
Her tears are only rain;
But if she will I follow still
The flitting way of sunshine
Whatever way she will.
And if she will I love her,
And if she put me by,
Despite her will I follow still.
And will she let me love her?
Ha, ha! I think she will.
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