A Trois Temps.
76
To shining like a lamp against the dark
Of other, poorer peoples' happiness,
And every sense grown keener to demand
Its rights, and wise enough to know them, halts
Fullfed, and languorously cries "Content!"
Of other, poorer peoples' happiness,
And every sense grown keener to demand
Its rights, and wise enough to know them, halts
Fullfed, and languorously cries "Content!"
She—
I, too, have found my home, at last, 'tis here
Against your sheltering shoulder. All my world
So large, so limitless, so full of every good
Lies yet within the circle of your arm.
Then, where is Heaven? Wherefore do they seek
With lifted eyes afar, when all the time
It lies so near, all just within your arm.
I, too, have found my home, at last, 'tis here
Against your sheltering shoulder. All my world
So large, so limitless, so full of every good
Lies yet within the circle of your arm.
Then, where is Heaven? Wherefore do they seek
With lifted eyes afar, when all the time
It lies so near, all just within your arm.
He—
My love for you is not an alien thing,
An after-thought of God's giving to life
A rich addendum. You to me are not
A flower that I might pluck to glut mine eye
With its entrancing beauty, nor a gem
To set about with carven gold and wear
To wake the envy of a watching world,
Upon my breast. You are to me as air,
My love for you is not an alien thing,
An after-thought of God's giving to life
A rich addendum. You to me are not
A flower that I might pluck to glut mine eye
With its entrancing beauty, nor a gem
To set about with carven gold and wear
To wake the envy of a watching world,
Upon my breast. You are to me as air,
