 | The poems of Celia Thaxter |  |
SONNET
If I do speak your praise, forgive me, Sweet!Since love demands expression, let me say
How joyfully my heart goes out to greet
Your grace and charm with every changing day:
How sweet your morning kiss, how dear your smile,
And tender touch, and voice that 's low and clear,
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You draw me to you, near and yet more near,
And show me what pure depths within you lie,—
The powers of good, the gentle steadfastness,
The quiet wisdom and the purpose high,
So strong to love, to lift, to cheer and bless;
While like a robe of loveliness you wear
Your flower-like radiance delicately fair.
| The poems of Celia Thaxter | |