Henry Ford love poem
- To Clara
Drops of water and grains of sand.
Snowflakes and drops of dew.
The liquid ocean, the crystal land.
The stars in ether blue.
Things of beauty - but beneath the skies,
There's nothing so bright as my loved one's eyes.
The foam-flecked lake, the forest green.
The mountain with snow-white crest,
The cascade that foams through the wild ravine.
Down the gray cliffs rugged breast
Beautiful all in their native grace,
Yet nothing as fair as my darling's face.
The fountain, streamlet, river and rill
The cataract's mist and roar -
The fern-clad glen and the moss-clad hill,
And the waves on the distinct shore:
Things of glory on sea and land,
Yet nothing so dear as my darling's hand.
The beautiful flowers that dot the dell,
And deck the mountain side.
The violet primrose and heathersbell,
With nature's glories dyed.
Where the hummingsbird sings and the honeybee sips
Are never so sweet as my darling's lips.
Bright eye, fair face, white hand of my dear,
Oh red ripe lips so fragrant with love.
Like Eden it seems when my loved one is near,
And I catch a glimpse of the heaven above.
Oh there's nothing so sweet in the realm of bliss,
As the tender glow of my darling's kiss.
- From Henry