A Game of Lawn Tennis

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What wonder that I should be dreaming
 Out here in the garden to-day?
The light through the leaves is streaming,-
Paulina cries, "Play!"

The birds to each other are calling,
 The freshly-cut grasses smell sweet;
To Teddy's dismay, comes falling
 The ball at my feet.

"Your stroke should be over, not under!"
 "But that's such a difficult way!"
The place is a springtide wonder
 Of lilac and may;

Of lilac, and may, and laburnum,
 Of blossom,-We're losing the set!
"Those volleys of Jenny's,-return them;
 "Stand close to the net!"


* * * * * * *

You are so fond of the Maytime,
 My friend, far away;
Small wonder that I should be dreaming
 Of you in the garden to-day.

© Amy Levy