Often have I heard it said
That her lips are ruby-red:
Little heed I what they say,
I have seen as red as they.
Ere she smiled on other men,
Real rubies were they then.
But now her lips are coy and cold;
To mine they ne'er reply;
And yet I cease not to behold
The love-light in her eye:
Her very frowns are fairer far
Than smiles of other maidens are.
As I read I was conscious of having seen the lines somewhere before, and
yet I could not place them for the moment. They certainly possessed merit,
so much so, in fact, that I marvelled to think of their being Bragdon's. I
turned the leaves further and discovered this: