You went to the opera, dear, last night
In your beautiful new coupe.
I went, and in time to see you alight;
I walked; - my usual way.
You swept to your box like a queen, my dear,
With a shimmer of pearls and lace;
I crept up stairs to the gallery sphere,
For that's my usual place.
There came to your side, in the box, my dear,
In the splendor of evening dress,
Full many a one; but within my tier,
I sat in my loneliness.
They whispered compliments low, my dear,
And you smiled as you heard them speak;
Had my thoughts been uttered for you to hear,
Blushes had tinged your cheek.
When the curtain fell at the last, my dear,
You went with a queen's array
Of courtiers glib, and I too was near,
But dumb; - my usual way.
You smiled from the carriage, dear, like a queen,
On the courtiers clustered round;
From the other side fell a rose unseen,
And by me 't was as usual found.
It told me you still were my own, my dear.
They went to their homes elate,
And I to mine, - it is high, but near
To heaven; for heaven I wait.
G. C. G.
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