 | Poems |  |
60
A Song of Solace
Again, dear heart, we snatch an hour
From Time, who grudges bliss;
Thy lips unfold, like morning flower,
To pout the promised kiss!
Deep hues arise within thine eyes;
Love's soft suffusion, stealing,
Fills all thy face with tender grace
And all thy form with feeling.
From Time, who grudges bliss;
Thy lips unfold, like morning flower,
To pout the promised kiss!
Deep hues arise within thine eyes;
Love's soft suffusion, stealing,
Fills all thy face with tender grace
And all thy form with feeling.
Beside thee I can still forget
Life's purposes, how vain;
The force that dissipates in fret;
The disproportioned pain:
Whoso may preach, can never reach
(Too careful comfort doling),
The soothing power of one dear hour
Of thy complete consoling.
Life's purposes, how vain;
The force that dissipates in fret;
The disproportioned pain:
Whoso may preach, can never reach
(Too careful comfort doling),
The soothing power of one dear hour
Of thy complete consoling.
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