My Little Jean

Mine is the fate to watch the evening star,
In yonder dome,
Descending slowly through the cobweb bar
That girts the twilight mysteries afar —
Above your home.

Mine is the fate to turn toward the west
When falls the dew,
When dips the sun beyond the woodland crest
At vesper hour, I think, my loved and best,
Alone of you.

And mine the happy fate to live for aye
Within the dream
Of knowing that the sun lights not a day
But that some thought of yours to me will stray,
My little Jean.

The diamond blaze of glory lures me through
A gilded whirl,
Fame stretches toward me crowns of sapphire blue;
But I must fain resist — and choose but you,
My bonny girl.

Your friendship has sufficed, and held its own
Unsullied still,
What manly voice upon my heart has grown,
What stronger hand can soothe like yours alone
My headstrong will?

Life offers me no love but love for you,
My woman's thought
Was never given to test a faith untrue —
Nor drink of passion's spirits drugged with rue,
Too dearly bought.

They say sometime my wayward heart must rise,
To love so strong,
That friendship will grow cold when other ties
Enslave my heart, that in my soul there lies
An unknown song.

But yet it is unsung, nor do I care
Its notes to glean;
Give in their place your bonny eyes and hair,
Your tender voice, your heart, a jewel rare —
My little Jean.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.