STANZAS

STRANGE! that one lightly whispered tone

Is far, far sweeter unto me,

Than all the sounds that kiss the earth,

Or breathe along the sea;

But, lady, when thy voice I greet,

Not heavenly music seems so sweet.

I look upon the fair blue skies,

And naught but empty air I see;

But when I turn me to thin eyes,

It seemeth unto me

Ten thousand angels spread their wings

Within those little azure rings.

The lily bath the softest leaf

That ever western breeze bath fanned,

But thou shalt have the tender flower,

So I may take thy hand;

That little hand to me doth yield

More joy than all the broidered field.

O lady! there be many things

That seem right fair, below, above;

But sure not one among them all

Is half so sweet as love;—

Let us not pay our vows alone,

But join two altars both in one.