Explore "Paul Mcneely" by Edgar Lee Masters on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane!
How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill)
In your nurse's cap and linen cuffs, / And took my hand and said with a smile:
"You are not so ill -- you'll soon be well."
And how the liquid thought of your eyes / Sank in my eyes like dew that slips / Into the heart of a flower.
Dear Jane! the whole McNeely fortune / Could not have bought your care of me, / By day and night, and night and day;
Nor paid for you smile, nor the warmth of your soul, / In your little hands laid on my brow.
Jane, till the flame of life went out / In the dark above the disk of night / I longed and hoped to be well again / To pillow my head on your little breasts, / And hold you fast in a clasp of love --
Did my father provide for you when he died, / Jane, dear Jane?