The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | ||
I.
GREAT LOVE IS HUMBLE.
Humble is Love, for he is Honor's child:
He knows the worth of her he does adore,
And that high reckoning humbles him the more:
By her dear sweetness from his pain beguiled,
He would be proud because her look is mild;
But all the while he scans the oft-told score,
And his imperfectness must still deplore,
Abashed no less because on him she smiled.
He knows the worth of her he does adore,
And that high reckoning humbles him the more:
By her dear sweetness from his pain beguiled,
He would be proud because her look is mild;
But all the while he scans the oft-told score,
And his imperfectness must still deplore,
Abashed no less because on him she smiled.
To be allowed to love is Love's dear prize:
To lay his homage at Her royal feet—
To enter thus the true heart's paradise,
The name of names forever to repeat,
And read his sentence in her answering eyes—
Love should be humble—his reward is meet.
To lay his homage at Her royal feet—
To enter thus the true heart's paradise,
The name of names forever to repeat,
And read his sentence in her answering eyes—
Love should be humble—his reward is meet.
The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | ||