Classic Poem

The Face Of Love

But once beheld by any man, no more;
And then with such wild tumult in his brain
He may not recollect the look it wore,
Or if 'twas pleasure that he felt, or pain,
When those strange eyes sent fire to his heart's core.

But who can grasp the maze of sad delight
That music weaves, its memory dying never?
And who can read the Face of Love aright,
With all its mystic meanings, shifting ever,
That stir life's deepest springs, yet cheat the sight?

A face of godlike glory, such as men
Might well misdeem the majesty of heaven,
But that there ever comes and goes again—
Like clouds across the noonday brilliance driven—
A mien that makes it wholly human then.

Full-lipped as Orient maidens, there may play
The dimpled meaning that has shaken thrones
And swept a nation's boundaries away;
And then a quiver, as of voiceless groans,
And all the face looks tragic, old and gray.

At times a sad, mysterious face, that seems
With startled eyes to watch for coming ill;
Yet ever and anon across it gleams
A smile, that, passing, leaves it cold and still,
Enwrapped in unimaginable dreams.Englishlove poemlove poemslove poems for herlove poetrypoems about loveromantic poems