Your smiles are not, as other women's be,
Only the drawing of the mouth awry;
For breasts and cheeks and forehead we may see,
Parts wanting motion, all stand smiling by.
Heaven hath no mouth, and yet is said to amile
After your style;
No more hath Earth, yet that smiles too,
Just as you do.
No simpering lips nor looks can breed
Such smiles as from your face proceed.
The sun must lend his golden beams,
Soft winds their breath, green trees their shade,
Sweet fields their flowers, clear springs their streams,
Ere such another smile be made.
But these concurring, we may say,
So smiles the spring, and so smiles lovely May.
Aurelian Townsend
|
 |