Lilian

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I
  Airy, Fairy Lilian,
  Flitting, fairy Lilian,
When I ask her if she love me,
Claps her tiny hands above me,
  Laughing all she can;
She 'll not tell me if she love me,
  Cruel little Lilian.


II

  When my passion seeks
  Pleasance in love-sighs,
  She, looking thro' and thro' me
  Thoroughly to undo me,
  Smiling, never speaks:
So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple,
From beneath her gathered wimple
  Glancing with black-bearded eyes,
Till the lightning laughters dimple
  The baby-roses in her cheeks;
  Then away she flies.

III

  Prythee weep, May Lilian!
  Gaiety without eclipse
  Whearieth me, May Lilian;
Thro' my every heart it thrilleth
  When from crimson-threaded lips
Silver-treble laughter trilleth:
  Prythee weep, May Lilian!

IV

  Praying all I can,
If prayers will not hush thee,
  Airy Lilian,
Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee,
  Fairy Lilian.

© Alfred Tennyson