Paul Laurence Dunbar

Her Thoughts and His

The gray of the sea, and the gray of the sky,
A glimpse of the moon like a half—closed eye.
The gleam on the waves and the light on the land,
A thrill in my heart,—and—my sweetheart’s hand.
 
She turned from the sea with a woman’s grace,
And the light fell soft on her upturned face,
And I thought of the flood—tide of infinite bliss
That would flow to my heart from a single kiss.
 
But my sweetheart was shy, so I dared not ask
For the boon, so bravely I wore the mask.
But into her face there came a flame:—
I wonder could she have been thinking the same?
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