by William Henry Gardner (1865 - 1932)

Language: English 
Thy beaming eyes
Are Paradise,
To me, my love, to me.
Thy trembling kiss,
Is heav'nly bliss,
To me sweet love,
But oh, thy heart!
It has no part,
With thee, my dear,
'Tis strangely cold,
And doth withhold,
Its love I fear,
Thy beaming eyes,
Are Paradise,
To me, my dear.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 15
Word count: 52