I have another lover loving me, Himself beloved of all men, fair and true, He would not have me change although I grew Perfect as Light, because more tenderly He loves myself than loves what I might be. Low at my feet he sings the winter through, And, never won, I love to hear him woo. For in my heaven both sun and moon is he, To my bare life a fruitful-flooding Nile, His voice like April airs that in our isle Wake sap in trees that slept since autumn went. His words are all caresses, and his smile The relic of some Eden ravishment; And he that loves me so I call: Content. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POISON TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE BLUEBEARD'S CLOSET by ROSE TERRY COOKE ODE TO ETHIOPIA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE LAST POST by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE CAVALIER'S SONG by WILLIAM MOTHERWELL THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |