To a Tear

There is a beauty upon womans face
When smiles in sunny rapture domineers
There is on beautys cheek a winning grace
When clouded with the eloquence of tears
Sweet gem of artless loves sincerity
Womans bright eye is thy enthroning place
To mourn & sigh is every harlots forgery
But womans tears like dew down roses stealing
Are the souls essence—its most deepest feeling
That words cant utter may be read in thee
Clear looking glass of the unfolded heart
Its undissembled purity to prove
For when with thee cares sorrows have no part
Thy births affection & thy self true love
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.