Classic Poem

Not in you heavens I stand, but at thy side
Wenonah mine, my beautiful, my bride!

Long moons ago I loved thee in the west
And hovered near thee in thy woodland rest;

Then long I lost the joy-gleam of that face
Which makes thee far the loveliest of thy race.

In wild despair of reaching thee, I ran
To earth and took the godlike form of man.

Behold I speak to thee and, trembling much,
That gentle hand of thine, I softly touch:

Then slowly turn and lo! those glorious eyes
More beautiful than the deep star-sown skies.

Alone no more a pilgrim of the night,
But by thy side to thrill thy soul with light,

I come to thee; Oh, tell me now thou art
My bride, my own, Wenonah of my heart.

Then, through the world of love shall travel far
In living dream, Wenonah and her star.