April by A.T.
Originally published in Belgravia (John Maxwell) vol.2 #6 (Apr 1867).
The Queen of the Row
I see her flush as she appears;
Her ears, those rosy shell-like ears,
Tingling with the hum of admiration
As she passes down the line—
The incense of a people's adulation
At a goddess' shrine.
See how she bows with graceful ease
As one by one her devotees,
Craving a smile of recognition,
Worship her with earnest eyes,
Proving each a fresh addition
To her other victories.
When she checks her horse's stride,
Laughing as she nears my side,
Does she notice a commotion
Rising in the jealous band?
Does the warmth of my devotion
Thrill her glove-imprison'd hand?
She babbles of the days we met
When children. Can she, then, forget
How she was queen when we were playing
Not so very long ago?
And she'll be queen of this year's Maying
As she passes down the Row.