The Joy of Love
'...in the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.'
Alfred Lord Tennyson.
The boundless joy I feel when you are near
is peerless, much more precious than pure gold,
and I can scarce restrain a happy tear
when your resplendent beauty I behold.
Your tresses, silken and so fair lie soft
upon your pillow, nestled by design,
your slender body mesmerizes, oft
I long to hold you close and make you mine.
Your eyes like sparkling stars so deeply rare
imbue whate'er they see with purity;
no sweeter verdict pass'd could be my share
than be here bless'd for all eternity,
safe in your embrace with the world astray
I'll lie content, my woes so far away.
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