If ever there be a Soul pure as mine,
Or genius bestowed, my flower is thine!
Shine, shine on me, love, hereafter my dear,
And never ask of doubt, despair, nor fear!
Encased like marble, statuesque and smooth,
Only for me to touch, all else remove
Not an atom from thee, nor even time
Which jealously covets this lovely rhyme!
May 28
May 28, 2026 at 2:56 PM UTC
If ever there be a Soul pure as mine,
Or genius bestowed, my flower is thine!
Shine, shine on me, love, hereafter my dear,
And never ask of doubt, despair, nor fear!
Encased like marble, statuesque and smooth,
Only for me to touch, all else remove
Not an atom from thee, nor even time
Which jealously covets this lovely rhyme!
Request permission to use this poem