IF my poor words were colours, A magic brush my pen, Ah me, what radiant pages My songs would make you then. The fairest tints of morning Should picture hopes for you, My joy in your sweet living, The sky's divinest blue. In purple and in crimson My thoughts of you should twine, And through them all my love, dear, In purest gold would shine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CURFEW MUST NOT RING TONIGHT by ROSE HARTWICK THORPE THE SONG OF THE DIAL by PETER AIREY FRIAR JEROME'S BEAUTIFUL BOOK; A.D. 1200 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE CALL by ANNYE LEWIS ALLISON THE KNIGHTS: DEMOS AND HIS FLATTERER by ARISTOPHANES FUNERAL by ETHEL SKIPTON BARRINGER |