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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508583" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Post Office Romance</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lady at the corner wicket<br>Sold me a stamp, I stooped to lick it,<br>And on the envelope to stick it;<br>A spinster lacking girlish grace,<br>Yet sweetly sensitive, her face<br>Seemed to en-star that stodgy place. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said I: &quot;I've come from o'er the sea<br>To ask you if you'll marry me -<br>That is to say, if you are free.<br>I see your gentle features freeze;<br>'I do not like such jokes as these,'<br>You seem to say . . . Have patience, please. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw you twenty years ago;<br>Just here you sold me stamps, and Oh<br>Your image seemed to haunt me so.<br>For you were lovely as a rose,<br>But I was poor, and I suppose<br>At me you tilted dainty nose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, well I knew love could not be,<br>So sought my fortune o'er the sea,<br>Deeming that you were lost to me.<br>Of sailing ships a mate was I,<br>From oriental ports to ply . . .<br>Ten years went past of foreign sky. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But always in the starry night<br>I steered my course with you in sight,<br>My dream of you a beacon light.<br>Then after a decade had sped<br>I cam again: 'What luck? I said,<br>'Will she be here and free to wed?' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh it was on a morn of Spring,<br>And I had in my purse a ring<br>I bought in Eastern voyaging,<br>With thought of you and only you;<br>For I to my love dream was true . . .<br>And here you were, your eyes of blue. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The same sun shining on your brow<br>Lustered you hair as it does now,<br>My heart was standing still, I vow.<br>I bought a stamp, my eyes were bent<br>Upon a ring you wore - I went<br>Away as if indifferent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again I sailed behind the mast,<br>And yet your image held me fast,<br>For once again ten years have passed.<br>And I am bronzed with braid of gold;<br>The rank of Captain now I hold,<br>And fifty are my years all told. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet still I have that ruby ring<br>I bought for you that morn of Spring -<br>See, here it is, a pretty thing. . . .<br>But now you've none upon your finger;<br>Why? I don't know - but as I linger<br>I'm thinking : Oh what can I bring her. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who all my life have ploughed the ocean,<br>A lonely man with one devotion -<br>Just you? Ah, if you'd take the notion<br>To try the thing you ought to wear,<br>It fits so well. Do leave it there. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And here's a note addressed to you.<br>Ah yes, quite strangers are we two,<br>But - well, please answer soon . . . Adieu! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> * * * * * * * * * * </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh no, you never more will see<br>Her selling stamps at Wicket Three:<br>Queen of my home, she's pouring tea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508583" data-title="Post Office Romance de Robert William Service" data-description="The lady at the corner wicket
Sold me a stamp, I stooped to lick it,
And on the envelope to stick it;
A spinster lacking girlish grace,
Yet sweetly sensitive, her face
Seemed to en-star that stodgy place. 

Said I: &quot;I've come from o'er the se..."></div>
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