Classic Poem

Shyly she knits her brows
And shows a face delicately rouged:
Supple waist in white silk
Beside the peony balustrade.
Vexed, she won't let him approach —
Half hiding her coy face,
Her voice low and shaking,
She asks, " Does anyone know? "
Smoothing her silk skirt,
She steals an upward glance
And takes a step or two away.

Then she asks,
" If I do it and then
My hair comes all undone
And mother guesses what's up?
No, I am going home —
You leave me alone for now.
Besides, I've needlework to do for mother;
She'll scold me if I don't get it done.
Wait until late tonight,
And come again
Under the shadows of the courtyard trees, okay? "