Maria Jane Jewsbury

A Maiden’s Fantasy

Thou must
Acknowledge that more loving dust
Ne'er wept beneath the skies.
Heaven and Earth.

O WERE my Love a bee,
I would not chide his absence from my bower's,
His bright wild wanderings 'mid a thousand flowers;
Enough for me,
To know my heart the hive where he might bring
His treasured honey, fold his weary wing.
Or if a rose were he,
I would not frown upon his gallant play
With dews, and sunbeams, and the zephyrs gay;
Enough for me,
To pluck the coronal when nought caressed,
And shroud its dying beauty in my breast.
Or if a fair star he,
That won all eyes and seemed on all to shine,
I would not blame his beauty or repine;
Enough for me,
Like a small quiet billow none survey,
To tremble in his light, then melt away.
O sweet Love be,
Of the wide world the glory and the dream,
Whate'er may fairest, brightest, goodliest seem.
Enough for me,
To mark and tell thy triumphs, yet divine,
No love so gentle, or so deep as mine.