Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Grata Juventas
She trembles when I touch
The tips of scarce-grown fingers,
Yet seems to think it overmuch
If for a moment lingers
Grasp that I hardly meant for such.
She clutcheth toy or book,
Or female hand beside her;
Now with askant, unsettled look,
Inviteth, then doth hide her,
Like struggling lily in a brook.
Anon she darteth glance
Athwart averted shoulder;
But when encouraged I advance,
Asudden waxing colder,
Her gaze lacks all significance.
O were she younger still,
Or more than a beginner,
I might control my troubled will,
Or give it rein and win her:
But now she is nor good nor ill.
poem
by
Alfred Austin
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black