Her Beautiful Hands

Your hands- they are strangely fair! O Fair- for the jewels that sparkle there,- Fair- for the witchery of the spell That ivory keys alone can tell; But when their delicate touches rest Here in my own do I love them best, As I clasp with eager, acquisitive spans My glorious treasure of beautiful hands! Marvelous- wonderful- beautiful hands! They can coax roses to bloom in the strands Of your brown tresses; and ribbons will twine, Under mysterious touches of thine, Into such knots as entangle the soul And fetter the heart under such a control As only the strength of my love understands- My passionate love for your beautiful hands. As I remember the first fair touch Of those beautiful hands that I love so much, I seem to thrill as I then was thrilled, Kissing the glove that I found unfilled- When I met your gaze, and the queenly bow, As you said to me, laughingly, 'Keep it now! '... And dazed and alone in a dream I stand, Kissing this ghost of your beautiful hand. When first I loved, in the long ago, And held your hand as I told you so- Pressed and caressed it and gave it a kiss And said 'I could die for a hand like this! ' Little I dreamed love's fullness yet Had to ripen when eyes were wet And prayers were vain in their wild demands For one warm touch of your beautiful hands. ......... Beautiful Hands! - O Beautiful Hands! Could you reach out of the alien lands Where you are lingering, and give me, to-night, Only a touch- were it ever so light- My heart were soothed, and my weary brain Would lull itself into rest again; For there is no solace the world commands Like the caress of your beautiful hands.