 | The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay |  |
54
PROUD BEAUTY.
I
Proud maid, thou lov'st thyself too muchTo give thy love to me;
Thou art too distant for my touch,
I've lost my faith in thee.
II
Though thou art splendid as a star,Thy beams are little worth,
They come too coldly from afar,
And cannot warm the earth.
III
I want no star amid the gloom,To light my mortal way,
I want a taper in my room
When twilight groweth gray.
IV
I want no proud majestic treeTo shade my cottage o'er,
I want a honeysuckle free
To clamber at the door.
V
I want no diamond sharply setUpon my forehead press'd,
I'd rather have a violet
To carry at my breast.
55
VI
Thy charms may rivalry eclipse,That all men may admire,
I'd rather have a pair of lips
To kiss beside the fire.
VII
I've lost all hopes I ever built,Of being loved by thee—
So, Lady, dazzle whom thou wilt,
No more thou'lt dazzle me.
| The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | |