Scarcely eighteen years have flitted,
Scarcely eighteen merry summers,
And as many merry winters,
Have elapsed since my Roberta,
My sweet blossom, my Roberta,
Has had being, has existed.
I have watched her in her cradle,
When she cooed and wooed the sunshine,
Tried to catch it in her fingers,
Rosy, dimpled, baby fingers.
We have played together often,
Romped and raced and frolicked gaily;
I, a lad, ten years her senior,
Did adore her fondly, ever
Fondly loved my baby sweetheart.
I have watched her bud and blossom,
Watched the dimpled child mature;
Watched her till my heart beat wildly,
Till my soul grew strangely troublous,
Till I grew depressed and fretful,
With a nameless dread and sorrow,
And I understood it not.
And I wearied soon without her,
Wearied soon without Roberta,
My sweet blossom, my Roberta,
Whom I called my baby sweetheart,
6She that was my merry playmate,
She whom I had watched mature.
Then I realized I loved her,
Dearly, deeply, loved Roberta;
Not as one would love a sister,
Not as one would love a daughter,
But with burning soul and body,
With impetuous desire,
With a longing to possess her,
To embrace her, to caress her;
As a wife I loved Roberta,
For my wife I meant to win her,
Innocent and pure Roberta,
Careless, thoughtless little girl.
Then with eager haste I sought her,
And with jealous eyes I watched her,
And with trembling heart I wooed her;
Careful to be always gentle,
Gentle with my tender blossom,
Lest I pain her or offend her
With a passion she knew not.
Innocent and pure Roberta,
Careless, thoughtless little girl!
I amused her with my wooing,
With my earnestness I pleased her,
And her laugh was loud and merry,
And she tripped about so nimbly,
With her golden hair dishevelled,
With her blue eyes filled with joy.
Then her merry laugh grew fainter,
And she came and stood beside me,
Looked up in my face serenely,
Smiled up at me softly, sweetly,
7Smiled with eyes and smiled with lips.
Then she hid her face so shyly,
Hid her face upon my bosom,
While I clasped her to me warmly,
Passionately as I dared to,
Lest she blush for me too soon.
Then I heard her murmur something,
Something I could not distinguish,
So I bent my head to listen,
Heard again her trembling whisper;
Then I understood the message,
Knew her soul to mine responded,
Knew my darling’s heart was mine.
Love, O Love, the world kneels to thee,
Knows no other god than thee!
Love, pure Love, most sacred passion,
Thou hast made this earth a heaven,
Thou hast filled my heart with rapture,
Thrilled my soul with bliss divine!
Love, sweet passion, hold me captive,
Keep me thus thy slave forever,
Hold me ever in thy power,
Fill me, thrill me ever thus!
Love, that holds us willing captives,
Blinds our reason and our sense;
Mighty love that stills the conscience,
Binds the human soul to thraldom,
Love that purifies or poisons,
Sacred Love that rules the world.
Love that stirs the fire of passion,
Warms and thrills the hardened bosom,
Moves the gentle heart to madness,
Makes the saddest light and merry,
8Makes the happiest despair.
Love that bows the proudest spirit,
Bends the firmest like the willow,
Holds the fiercest nature tranquil,
And the strongest in subjection,
Leads to virtue’s throne the vicious,
Drives the purest to dishonor,
Makes the noblest nobler still.
There can be no higher power,
There can be no greater ruler,
There can be no stronger leader,
Than the human passion, Love.
Love, O Love, the world kneels to thee,
Knows no other god than thee!
Would I could describe Roberta,
Could find words to do her justice,
Words to her alone belonging,
That do not apply to others,
But alone to my Roberta,
Innocent and pure Roberta,
Careless, thoughtless little girl.
Golden hair has my Roberta,
Golden brown of richest color,
Falling o’er her graceful shoulders,
Like a halo ’bout her beaming,
Like a golden cloud at even,
Like a misty, golden cloud.
Slim and slender is her body,
Supple, lissom little body,
Harmony in every outline,
Grace and beauty in each movement,
Simple, pretty, artless charms.
9Soft her skin as new-born baby’s,
Soft and tender as a roseleaf,
Creamy pink, without a blemish,
Blend the lily’s pearly tintings
With the fair flush of the rose.
Dainty little ringlets flutter
Carelessly about her forehead.
Glows her face with bonny brightness,
Childish, cheery, blooming beauty;
Smiles irradiate her features,
Glorify her dainty features,
Azure eyes and rosebud lips.
She is never dressed with primness,
Never moulded to her costumes,
Never pinched with useless girdles,
Nor annoyed with bones and buttons,
But is ever free and easy,
Ever restful and contented,
Ever graceful and bewitching,
In her filmy, fleecy garments,
In her robes of web-like texture,
Not unlike the angels’ raiment
In that heaven by fancy builded,
In that mythical abode;
Delicate and gauzy tissues,
Clinging to her shapely figure,
Clinging to her fairy form.
She is unendowed with wisdom,
She is not a brilliant scholar;
Little knows she of the classics,
And but little more of figures;
Grammar lessons bore and vex her,
10History is dull and irksome,
Nothing cares she for the past;
Scarce a thought she gives the future;
Dwells she ever in the present,
In the merry, happy present,
With the sunshine and the flowers,
With the butterflies and birds.
She would look with wide-eyed wonder,
She would shrink with timid terror,
From the gaudy, worldly women,
From the unrespected men.
She would list with ears bewildered,
And with mingled doubt and pity,
To the tales of want and hunger,
Of destruction and disaster,
Of the sufferings of women,
Of the cruelties to children,
Of tyrannical injustice
To the worthiest of men,
Innocent and unsuspecting,
Ignorant of crime and outrage,
Of the evils of the world.
How I love her, my Roberta!
Guileless, innocent Roberta,
Delicate and dainty creature,
Chaste and charming little maiden,
Sweet, confiding, gentle maiden,
My affianced wife, my own!
I have won her first affection,
I have drawn from her an answer
To my eager, hasty wooing,
To my over-zealous pleading,
To my passionate appeals.
11Much too early I approached her,
Much too early in good judgment,
But I feared to leave my treasure
Unpossessed and unprotected,
Guarded only by herself.
Soon she might be sought and courted,
Soon, perhaps, deceived, deluded,
Soon betrayed and soon forsaken
By some base, designing villain,
By some smooth-tongued, soft-voiced stranger,
By some fiendish, human vulture,
Ever seeking virtuous women
To deceive, debase, destroy;
By some treacherous, lying scoundrel,
By some comely, polished ruffian,
Whom society will fondle;
Such as law lets go unpunished,
While it murders better men.
And thus fearful for my loved one,
Jealous, too, of nobler suitors,
Who might see and love Roberta,
Who might win her while I waited,
I, with feverish excitement,
Sought and told her how I loved her,
How I had adored her ever,
How I hoped that she would love me,
And would let me call her wife.
Then I heard her whispered answer,
Bent my ear to catch the murmur,
Then I knew her heart responded,
Knew my darling’s love was mine.
Once I kissed her, kissed her warmly,
While she nestled on my bosom
12In her playful, childish manner,
In her loving, trusting way.
We were standing in the shadow,
Quite alone and quite forgotten.
Then I put my arms about her,
And she took them not away;
And I loved her near to madness,
And I clasped her closer to me,
And I kissed her madly, hotly,
With the recklessness of passion,
With the courage of desire.
Then Roberta, sweet Roberta,
Clinging still about me closely,
With her naked arms embraced me,
With her dimpled hands caressed me,
Of her own sweet will and pleasure,
While I kissed her and embraced her,
And her warm breast quivered gently
’Neath my rash, presumptuous hand!
’Twas only once I kissed her thus,
Darling, charming, chaste Roberta,
Only once she thus caressed me,
Only once and that was all!
Often comes she to me shyly,
Cuddles to me snugly, closely,
Like a little child at night-time,
Like a tired, weary child.
With her tender, slender fingers,
Soft and pretty, little fingers,
Playfully my hair she rumples,
Playfully my ear she pinches,
Lovingly my cheek she kisses,
Lovingly my hand caresses,
13With the purity of childhood,
Budding into maiden charms.
Tells me then how much she loves me,
More than ever every minute,
More than birds and more than sunshine,
More than many hundred roses,
More than she can count or measure,
Loves me best in all the world.
Smiling, trusting child of Nature,
Gentle, tender, loving maiden,
Laughing, singing quaint Roberta,
My sweet blossom, my Roberta,
My beloved one, my own!
Sweet, confiding, true Roberta,
She I called my baby sweetheart,
She that was my merry playmate,
She whom I had watched mature.
I will love her, watch her, guard her,
I will shield her and protect her,
Keep her modest, maiden graces,
Keep the innocence of childhood,
Of an artless, open nature,
Spread above her like a shelter,
Like a calm and peaceful shelter,
From the burning sun of passion,
From the glow of warmer love.
O Roberta, my Roberta,
Sweet and loving little maiden,
Tender, gentle, kind Roberta,
Innocent and pure Roberta,
Careless, thoughtless little girl!
My Roberta loves me fondly,
Loves me with sincere devotion,
14With a tender, true affection,
With a sweet and simple love.
Slumbers yet her deeper nature,
Slumbers yet her woman’s feeling,
Quietly within her bosom,
In her peaceful, virgin bosom,
Undisturbed and unsuspected,
Yet dispassionate and calm.
Mine and mine alone this treasure,
Mine alone shall be the pleasure
Of removing from about her,
With an eager hand, the mantle
Of her maiden innocence.
In my arms shall she awaken
To the blissfulness of loving,
To the pleasant agitations
I will kindle in her bosom,
That will permeate her being
With a new and strange delight.
Mine alone the hand to lead her
From the canopy above her,
That is now a peaceful shelter
From the burning sun of passion,
From the glow of warmest love.
Mine alone the right to touch her,
Mine alone the right to teach her
With my kisses and caresses,
With my passionate embraces,
Whispered words of sweeter pleasures,
Sweeter raptures and emotions
Than she ever yet has known.
But not yet must I disturb her,
Yet awhile must I be patient,
15Yet awhile delay the blisses
Of her first impassioned kisses,
Yet awhile endure the longing
To embrace her and caress her
As I shall when she is older,
In the happy, happy future,
When my darling, my Roberta,
My sweet blossom, my Roberta,
Bears the sacred name of wife!
O Roberta! My Roberta!
Beautiful and bonny maiden,
Tender, gentle, loving creature,
Laughing, singing, quaint Roberta,
Simple, trusting child of Nature,
Smiling, happy little maiden,
My affianced wife, my own!
In the morning of creation,
In the ages long forgotten,
In the earth nor in the heavens,
Has there ever yet existed
Any creature so beloved
By another, as Roberta,
My Roberta, is by me.
Lives there now nor shall there ever
In the limitless creation,
In the everness of matter,
In the universe eternal,
Any creature like Roberta,
Any creature so admired,
So beloved by another,
So adored and so beloved,
As Roberta, sweet Roberta,
My Roberta, is by me!
