The Sigh

Little head against my shoulder,     Shy at first, then somewhat bolder,      And up-eyed;     Till she, with a timid quaver,     Yielded to the kiss I gave her;      But, she sighed.     That there mingled with her feeling     Some sad thought she was concealing      It implied.     - Not that she had ceased to love me,     None on earth she set above me;      But she sighed.     She could not disguise a passion,     Dread, or doubt, in weakest fashion      If she tried:     Nothing seemed to hold us sundered,     Hearts were victors; so I wondered      Why she sighed.     Afterwards I knew her throughly,     And she loved me staunchly, truly,      Till she died;     But she never made confession     Why, at that first sweet concession,      She had sighed.     It was in our May, remember;     And though now I near November,      And abide     Till my appointed change, unfretting,     Sometimes I sit half regretting      That she sighed.