 | Poems (1857) |  |
162
WHY ART THOU SO UNLIKE THE REST?
Why art thou so unlike the rest—
So far unlike the beings near thee?
Why com'st thou like some heavenly guest,
Why seems it heaven itself to hear thee?
Or is my own fond heart too fond—
And finds thee, what none else have found thee?
Oh, no: thy presence soars beyond
All meaner things that gather round thee.
So far unlike the beings near thee?
Why com'st thou like some heavenly guest,
Why seems it heaven itself to hear thee?
Or is my own fond heart too fond—
And finds thee, what none else have found thee?
Oh, no: thy presence soars beyond
All meaner things that gather round thee.
Why look'st thou with those eyes of love
As though a seraph dwelt within them?
Why speak'st thou sweet as lips above—
That breathe to angel hearts and win them:
Why see'st thou all with such kind eyes
Whilst mine thyself can only see!—
And even as they gaze Earth flies—
And all their vision's lost in thee!
As though a seraph dwelt within them?
Why speak'st thou sweet as lips above—
That breathe to angel hearts and win them:
163
Whilst mine thyself can only see!—
And even as they gaze Earth flies—
And all their vision's lost in thee!
| Poems (1857) | |