I seek not praise for features that decay,
Nor worship forms that time shall surely steal,
But love the light that guides my wanderer’s way,
The sacred truth thy spirit doth reveal.
It is not in the gaze, though fair it be,
But in the wisdom of thy gentle mind,
A boundless depth, a vast and silent sea,
Wherein a grace celestial I do find.
Thy laughter is a melody of spring,
That wakes the slumbering hope within my breast,
More sweet than any song the larks might sing,
It brings my weary heart its perfect rest.
So let the seasons wither youth’s soft bloom,
And let the mirror show a fading face;
My love shall burn amid the gathering gloom,
Held captive by thy soul’s eternal grace.
In the tradition of the great Romantics, this piece serves as a reminder that true affection transcends the visual. It is an ode to the enduring essence of the beloved, promising a devotion that outlasts the fleeting nature of youth.
