Soul-Sweetness
What do I love him for? His lustrous eyes
Of mirrored sea-change, deep as yonder wave:
Or yet the wonder of his spirits rise
When laughter woos him from reflection grave.
Or is it for the tender suppliant way
He has in seeking me at close of day
To put his head upon my breast and say
A thousand times he loves me? Is it for
His ardent lips or gentle hand's caress,
Or yet his midnight locks that I adore?
Not for these charms I love him,—nor not less
Were he to lack them: nay, I worship more
The Inner-Being in its loveliness!
Of mirrored sea-change, deep as yonder wave:
Or yet the wonder of his spirits rise
When laughter woos him from reflection grave.
Or is it for the tender suppliant way
He has in seeking me at close of day
To put his head upon my breast and say
A thousand times he loves me? Is it for
His ardent lips or gentle hand's caress,
Or yet his midnight locks that I adore?
Not for these charms I love him,—nor not less
Were he to lack them: nay, I worship more
The Inner-Being in its loveliness!
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