Classic Poem

You shall have all my vanities:
The curl and colour of my hair,
The hundred happy coquetries,
The rose-hued gowns I love to wear.
Perhaps I shall not greatly care,
Or, caring, mourn them but a day;
But oh! this joy, this joy of mine—
May this not stay?

You shall take laughter's clearest note,
The very dancing from my feet,
The warmth and whiteness of my throat—
I shall not tremble when we meet
Save for this joy of mine, this sweet
Rose of delight I close away
Within my inmost heart. O Time,
May this not stay?

You shall have all that women prize:
The little things of loveliness,
The very blue from my two eyes.
I would not stay your hand with less—
But oh! my singing happiness,
The joy that lights my life today!
You shall have all my vanities—
May this not stay?