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Poem by Menella Bute Smedley


Two Ways


If only to the darken'd eye
Or dying heart, Thy will is sweet,
Blind me, O Lord, or let me die
At once beneath Thy piercèd feet;
Against my will Thy way I choose,
I wish my dearest hopes denied,
For I would love Thee, though I lose
The power of loving aught beside!
But hearts that breathe in purer air
Are like a child that finds a flower,
And wonders why it is so fair,
And wears it for one happy hour;
Then, by a father's arm embraced,
Springs to him, leans upon his breast,
And yields it, ere he ask, in haste
To give him what it loves the best. 



Menella Bute Smedley


Menella Bute Smedley's other poems:
  1. The Singing Lesson
  2. The Rooks' Petition
  3. The Vow of Cortes
  4. The Sick Child
  5. The English Merchant and the Saracen Lady


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