Gerald Massey

May 29, 1828 - Oct 29, 1907

 

My Love

by Gerald Massey

My Love is true and tender,
Her eyes are rich with rest;
Her hair of dappled splendour,
The colour I love best;
So sweet, so gay, so odorous warm,
She nestles here, heart-high,
A bounteous aspect, beauteous form,
But -- just a wee bit sly.

My Love is no light Dreamer,
A-floating with the foam;
But a brave life-sea swimmer,
With footing found in Home.
My winsome Wife, she's bright without,
And beautiful within;
But -- I would not say quite without
The least wee touch of sin.

My Love is not an Angel
In one or two small things;
But just a wifely woman
With other wants than wings.
You have some little leaven
Of earth, you darling dear!
If you were fit for Heaven,
You might not nestle here.

Source:

Poems
Copyright 1866
Boston: Ticknor And Fields
 
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