Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LOVER MUSES by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE

First Line: SHE MUST NOT THINK OF ME AS LESS
Last Line: WHERE LOVE, WHO'S FOND OF HONEY, DWELLS.
Subject(s): MAN-WOMAN RELATIONSHIPS; MALE-FEMALE RELATIONS;
SHE must not think of me as less
The servant of her loveliness
Because she frowns when I eclipse
An inch of beauty with my lips.

Because within the barn I dared
To kiss her gloveless fingers, bared
While she and I, being weather-bound,
Were sitting deep in hay, she frowned.

How deeper far had been the line
On brows as fresh as eglantine
If I had ventured to express
An act of honied daringness!

Some girls being quick to mellow; some
As gradual as the slowest plum,
The gods instructed man to take
A leap, or how with skill to ache.

I must not startle her with deeds
To match the pulses of my needs,
For she will never be so warm
As those whom Love can take by storm.

But I must ponder words and ways
To colour charmingly her days,
That often she may think how fair
Her haunt would be if I were there.

And next, when happy thoughts begin
To spread a flush beneath her skin
In silent praise of what I seem,
'Twere best to let her dream, and dream;

For many bees of dreaming know
The trick of honey, and bestow,
As nimble little gods, the cells
Where Love, who's fond of honey, dwells.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net