Sagas of Vaster Britain: Poems of the Race, the Empire and the Divinity of Man

by William Wilfred Campbell




TIME may set his fingers there,
    Fix the smiles that curve about
Her winsome mouth, and touch her hair,
    Put the curves of youth to rout;
But the ‘something’ God put there,
    That which drew me to her first,
Not the imps of pain and care,
    Not all sorrow’s fiends accurst,
Can kill the look that God put there.

Something beautiful and rare

    Nothing common can destroy;
Not all the leaden load of care,
    Not all the dross of earth’s alloy;
Better than all fame or gold,
    True as only God’s own truth,
It is something all hearts hold
    Who have loved once in their youth.

That sweet look her face doth hold
    Thus will ever be to me;
Joy may all her pinions fold,

    Care may come, and misery;
Through the days of murk and shine,
    Though the roads be foul or fair,
I will see through love’s glad eyne
    That sweet look that God put there.