My Lady's young, my Lady's fair, Her lips are like the drooping rose, And soft and silken is her hair, Her smile so sweet, that if she chose To charm away my dark despair With one such boon, my night would close; My Lady, Oh my Lady. My Lady's young, my Lady's sweet, No nectar of ambrosial brew In sweetness with her can compete, The richest wine of ruddy hue Compared to her is incomplete And tasteless as the summer dew; My Lady, Oh my Lady. My Lady's young, my Lady's proud, She rules my heart with iron hand, No arrant knave was e'er as cowed As I, when treading Cupid's land, My anxious heart doth beat so loud I fear the world will understand; My Lady, Oh my Lady. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO J. D. H. (KILLED AT SURREY C. H., OCTOBER, 1866) by SIDNEY LANIER |