John Kenyon - The Surprise lyrics

TO--- I marked her grave and nun-like air, When all beside were gay and free; And true, I said, the face is fair, But that was ne'er enough for me. And Her's, I grant, are speaking eyes, And Her's is brow of thoughtful mould; but these will never win the wise, When linked with heart too calm and cold. For me, a frost so chill and deep, I cannot tarry for its breaking; These sleeping Beauties—let 'em sleep, I never knew one worth the waking. And so I talked—till—on a day— Lured by I know not what vagary, She put such store of charms in play. Such frolic graces, smiles so airy; With cadences like music strung, And sense with feeling so commingling, That I though staid, and not too young, Felt, like the rest, my bosom tingling. A foolish tingling—yet so dear, An idle—yet so sweet a pain, I knew not if to wish, or fear That she were calm and cold again.