Poems (Blake)/My Wee Lover
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MY WEE LOVER.
Tell me what wee lover this is
With his sweet mouth full of kisses;
With his great eyes, dark and tender,
Full of love's divinest splendor;
With the lips in bird-like cooing,
Breathing all sweet notes of wooing;
While the rose-leaf fingers pressing
Win my heart with fond caressing.
With his sweet mouth full of kisses;
With his great eyes, dark and tender,
Full of love's divinest splendor;
With the lips in bird-like cooing,
Breathing all sweet notes of wooing;
While the rose-leaf fingers pressing
Win my heart with fond caressing.
Curving grace of red lips smiling,
Sweet eyes bent in love's beguiling,
With the sunlight's golden meshes,
Snared within his deep brown tresses,
Peach-bloom cheek to my cheek clinging,
Arms to meet my own upspringing,
Heart of gold that all divine is,
Such this wee fond love of mine is.
Sweet eyes bent in love's beguiling,
With the sunlight's golden meshes,
Snared within his deep brown tresses,
Peach-bloom cheek to my cheek clinging,
Arms to meet my own upspringing,
Heart of gold that all divine is,
Such this wee fond love of mine is.
Kiss and kiss again, my darling!
Care without the gate is snarling,
Angry that we thus can flout him,
Laugh and smile and live without him;
We have found a better preacher:
Love is still the wisest teacher,
When his lore I thus discover,
Holding fast my wee sweet lover.
Care without the gate is snarling,
Angry that we thus can flout him,
Laugh and smile and live without him;
We have found a better preacher:
Love is still the wisest teacher,
When his lore I thus discover,
Holding fast my wee sweet lover.