Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 3. 14. Song (I love her gentle forehead)

I love her gentle forehead,
⁠     And I love her tender hair;
I love her cool, white arms,
     ⁠And her neck where it is bare.

I love the smell of her garments;
⁠     I love the touch of her hands;
I love the sky above her,
⁠     And the very ground where she stands.

I love her doubting and anguish;
⁠     I love the love she withholds;
I love my love that loveth her
⁠     And anew her being molds.