Джеральд Масси (Gerald Massey)

To a Beloved One

Heaven hath its crown of Stars, the Earth, 
    Her glory-robe of flowers,
The Sea its gems, the grand old woods,
    Green leaves, and silver showers:
The birds have homes, where honey-blooms
    In beauty bend above;
High yearning hearts, their rainbow dream,
    And we, Sweet! we have love.

There's sorrow for the toiling poor;
    On Misery's bosom nurst—
Rich robes for ragged souls, and crowns
    For branded brows, Cain-curst;
But cherubim, with clasping wings,
    Ever about us be,
And happiest, of God's happy things,
    There's love for you and me.

We walk not with the jewelled great,
    Where Love's dear name is sold;
Yet have we wealth, we would not give, 
    For all their world of gold!
We revel not in Corn, and Wine—
    Yet have we from above—
Manna divine, and we'll not pine;
    Do we not live and love?

Thy lips that kiss, till death have turn'd
    Life's water into wine;
The sweet life melting thro' thy looks,
    Hath made mine own divine.
All Love's dear Promise hath been kept,
    Since thou to me wert given,
A ladder, for my soul to climb,
    And summer high in heaven.

I know dear heart! in our bright lot
    May mingle tears and sorrow,
Well, Love's rich rainbow's built from tears
    To-day, with smiles to-morrow!
The sunshine from our sky may die,
    The greenness from Life's tree,
But ever 'mid the scathe, and storm,
    Thy nest shall shelter'd be!

I saw thee!   Ararat of my life!
    Smiling, the waves above—
Thou haild'st me Victor in tire strife,
    And beaconds't me with love!
The world may never know, dear heart!
    Half what I've found in thee;
Yet tho' nought to the world, dear heart!—
    Thou'rt all the world to me.

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