No Name

You, the love of my heart, beauty is exactly what you define – You are the rose of the valleys that possesses a scent so divine; And your eyes so tender, far more like the moon glistering bright, So is your love unto me, not half so comparable at day or at night. Your lips, O my darling, as the stars across the clouds, beautiful Than the lips of those whose hobbies are to tell lies so awful – And your smile is kind, as though all joys were vested in you; And your touch is sweet, when I lie in your arms fearing dew. And your voice is liquid, could hardly breathe when I heard you sing, And your kiss, and O, the velvet of your skin! what a gentle thing – Like the softest sand of the deeper sea, stimulates shipment of sentiments, With a plethora of love, and dignity I must say ‘My poem, –this is how it ends!’ But beshrew me, I never wish to lo and behold my soul dissever from yours, And awake at midnight, and say: ‘The love is over and gone, or perhaps even worse!’