No Jewelled Beauty is my Love

" No jewelled Beauty is my Love,
Yet in her earnest face
There's such a world of tenderness,
She needs no other grace."— P. 37.

No jewell'd Beauty is my Love,
Yet in her earnest face
There's such a world of tenderness,
She needs no other grace.
Her smiles, and voice, around my life
In light and music twine,
And dear, O very dear to me,
Is this sweet Love of mine.

O joy! to know there's one fond heart
Beats ever true to me!
It sets mine leaping like a lyre,
In sweetest melody:
My soul up-springs, a Deity!

To hear her voice divine;
And dear, O very dear to me,
Is this sweet Love of mine.

If ever I have sigh'd for wealth,
'Twas all for her, I trow;
And if I win Fame's victor-wreath,
I'll twine it on her brow.
There may be forms more beautiful,
And souls of sunnier shine,
But none, O none, so dear to me,
As this sweet Love of mine.