Janiveer In March

I would not have you so kindly, Thus early in friendship’s year— A little too gently, blindly, You let me near. So long as my voice is duly Calm as a friend’s should be, In my eyes the hunger unruly You will not see. The eyes that you lift so brightly, Frankly to welcome mine — You bend them again as lightly And note no sign. I had rather your pale cheek reddened With the flush of an angry pride: That a look with disliking deadened My look defied; If so in the spring’s full season Your glance should soften and fall, When, reckless with Love’s unreason, I tell you all.