Classic Poem

Sometimes her mouth with deep regret
Is grave, I know:
Sometimes her eyes with tears are wet
As a bedewèd violet,
And overflow.
She has her human faults—and yet
I love her so.

And have I therefore loved amiss
And been unwise?
Nay, I have only deeper bliss:
I love her just because of this—
Her sins and sighs;
And doubly, tenderly I kiss
Her mouth and eyes.