No Name
You, the love of my heart, beauty is exactly what you define –
You are the rose of the valleys that possesses a scent so divine;
And your eyes so tender, far more like the moon glistering bright,
So is your love unto me, not half so comparable at day or at night.
Your lips, O my darling, as the stars across the clouds, beautiful
Than the lips of those whose hobbies are to tell lies so awful –
And your smile is kind, as though all joys were vested in you;
And your touch is sweet, when I lie in your arms fearing dew.
And your voice is liquid, could hardly breathe when I heard you sing,
And your kiss, and O, the velvet of your skin! what a gentle thing –
Like the softest sand of the deeper sea, stimulates shipment of sentiments,
With a plethora of love, and dignity I must say ‘My poem, –this is how it ends!’
But beshrew me, I never wish to lo and behold my soul dissever from yours,
And awake at midnight, and say: ‘The love is over and gone, or perhaps even worse!’
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