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Poem by Gerald Massey
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No jewelled Beauty is my love, Yet in the heaven of her face, There's such a radiant tenderness, She needs no other gift, or grace. Her smile, and voice, around my heart In blessed light, and music, twine; And dear, O very dear, to me, Is this sweet love of mine. O joy ! to know there's one fond heart, That ever beateth true to me; It sets mine leaping, like a lyre, When sweetest strings make melody. My soul up-springs, a DeityЧ Heaven-crowned! to hear her voice divine, And dear, O very dear to me, Is this sweet love of mine. If ever I have sighed for wealth, Twas all for her dear sake, I trow, And if I win Fame's victor-wreath, I'll twine it on her bonnie brow. There may be forms more beautiful, And eyes of love, with sunnier shine, But none, O none, so dear to me, As this sweet love of mine.
Gerald Massey's other poems:
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