Poem by Alexander Smith

* * *

Last night my cheek was wetted with warm tears,
Each worth a world. They fell from eyes divine.
Last night a loving lip was pressed to mine,
And at its touch fled all the barren years;
And softly couched upon a bosom white,
Which came and went beneath me like a sea,
An emperor I lay in empire bright,
Lord of the beating heart, while tenderly
Love-words were glutting my love-greedy ears.
Kind Love, I thank thee for that happy night!
Richer this cheek with those warm tears of thine
Than the vast midnight with its gleaming spheres.
Leander toiling through the moonlight brine,
Kingdomless Anthony, were scarce my peers.

1. There Have Been Vast Displays of Critic Wit
2. I Wrote a Name upon the River Sands
3. I Cannot Deem Why Men Toil So for Fame
4. Beauty Still Walketh on the Earth and Air
5. Joy Like a Stream Flows Through the Christmas-Streets

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