Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 1. 2. Sonnet (I like her gentle hand that sometimes strays)

            (AFTER THE ITALIAN)

I like her gentle hand that sometimes strays,
⁠     To find the place, through the same book with mine;
⁠     I like her feet; and O, those eyes divine!
⁠     And when we say farewell, perhaps she stays
Love-lingering—then hurries on her ways,
⁠     As if she thought, "To end my pain and thine."
⁠     I like her voice better than new-made wine;
     ⁠I like the mandolin whereon she plays.
And I like, too, the cloak I saw her wear,
⁠     And the red scarf that her white neck doth cover,
⁠     And well I like the door that she comes through;
I like the riband that doth bind her hair—
⁠     But then, in truth, I am that lady's lover,
     ⁠And every new day there is something new.