Explore "With her Face" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
With her face between his hands! / Was it any wonder she / Stood atiptoe tremblingly? / As his lips along the strands / Of her hair went lavishing / Tides of kisses, such as swing / Love's arms to like iron bands. -- / With her face between his hands!
And the hands -- the hands that pressed / The glad face -- Ah! where are they? / Folded limp, and laid away / Idly over idle breast? / He whose kisses drenched her hair, / As he caught and held her there, / In Love's alien, lost lands, / With her face between his hands?
Was it long and long ago, / When her face was not as now, / Dim with tears? nor wan her brow / As a winter-night of snow? / Nay, anointing still the strands / Of her hair, his kisses flow / Flood-wise, as she dreaming stands, / With her face between his hands.