LOTE'S QUEEN.
He loves not well whose lore is bold : I would not hare thee come too nigh : The sun's gold would not seem pure gold Unless the suu was in the sky. To take him thence, and chain him near, Would make his beauty disappear. He keeps his state ; do thou keep thine,— And shine upon him from afar ; So shall I bask in light divine That falls from love|s own guiding star. So shall thy eminence be high, And so my passion shall not die. But all my life shall reach its hands Of lofty longing toward thy face, And be as one who speechless stands In rapture at some perfect grace. My lore, my hope, my all, shall be To look to heaven and look to thee. Thine eyes shall be the heavenly lights, Thy voice shall be the summer breeze, What time it sways, on moonlit nights, The murmuring tops of leafy trees. And I will touch thy beauteous form In June's red roses, rich and warm. But thou thyself shall come not down From that pure region far above ; But keep thy throne and wear thy crown, — Queen of my heart and queen of love 1 A monarch in thy realm complete, And I a monarch — at thy feet.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS18690731.2.11
Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Issue 379, 31 July 1869, Page 3
Word Count
214LOTE'S QUEEN. Star (Christchurch), Issue 379, 31 July 1869, Page 3
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