Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

They say — priests say —
That God loves the world.
Maybe he does,
When the dew is pearl'd
On the emerald grass,
Or the young dawns shine
Would you be satisfied,
Proteus mine,
Just to be loved
When your hair was curled,
As Earth is beloved
When earth is fine?
I love you more
Than God loves the world.

1. A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
2. How funny it would be if dreamy I
3. O little year, cram full of duty
4. Machinist Talking
5. Each morning I pass on my way to work

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