A Lover

A Lover.
Clinton Scollard
207.2

First her eyes!-I can’t express
All the wonder of her eyes;
Truth and trust and tenderness
Dwell there ever, vernal-wise.

Next her smile!-I cannot tell
All the marvel of her smile;
‘Tis a golden miracle
To enrapture and beguile.

Then her voice!-I cannot say
What most charms me in her voice;
Melody to trance the day,
Notes to bid the night rejoice.

Last, her heart!-and when I think
That it quickens but for me,
I am mute upon the brink
Of amaze and ecstasy.