My Love.
My love is pale, but in her cheeks1
Faint rosy flushes come and go,2
That gather slightly when she speaks,3
And sometimes deepen to a glow.4
She seems most like a young white rose,5
Within whose heart a blush is set,6
Softly unfolding as it grows—7
But ah, I have not found her yet !8
Her eyes are blue—such sweet blue eyes !9
Her white lids veil them from your sight
;10
But now and then a smile will rise,11
And fill them suddenly with light ;12
And when she hears of some distress,13
And on the lashes tears are wet,14
They look with such pained tenderness—15
But ah, I have not found her yet !16
Across her brow in even braids17
Is smoothly laid her glossy hair ;18
My love has need of no false aids,19
Or tricks of dress, to make her fair,20
She does not need from silken trains21
A gorgeous dignity to get ;22
In her soft homely dress she reigns—23
But ah, I have not found her yet !24
She wins your heart a hundred ways—25
Laying a light hand on your arm,26
Shewing in all she does and says27
A native deferential charm,28
Moving about with quiet grace ;29
Such little things you soon forget,30
Although they steal your love apace—31
But ah, I have not found her yet !32
Her image in my heart I wear ;33
My love, my faith, are all her own :34
I keep my life prepared for her35
When she shall come and take her throne.36
I dream of what the world will seem—37
So much more bright—when we have met ;38
I wonder, is it all a dream ?—39
For ah, I have not found her yet !40