The Poetry Corner

Sweetheart

By Robert Fuller Murray

Sweetheart, that thou art fair I know, More fair to me Than flowers that make the loveliest show To tempt the bee. When other girls, whose faces are, Beside thy face, As rushlights to the evening star, Deny thy grace, I silent sit and let them speak, As men of strength Allow the impotent and weak To rail at length. If they should tell me Love is blind, And so doth miss The faults which they are quick to find, I'd answer this: Envy is blind; not Love, whose eyes Are purged and clear Through gazing on the perfect skies Of thine, my dear.