As Love will carve dear names upon a tree,
Symbol of gravure on his heart to be,
So thought I thine with loving text to set
In the growth and substance of my canzonet;
But, writing it, my tears begin to fall-
This wild-rose stem for thy large name's too small!
Nay, still my trembling hands are fain, are fain
Cut the good letters though they lap again;
Perchance such folk as mark the blur and stain
Will say, 'It was the beating of the rain;'
Or, haply these o'er-woundings of the stem
May loose some little balm, to plead for them.
A Dedication To Charlotte Cushman
Sidney Lanier
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Poem topics: heart, rain, rose, tree, dear, wild, good, small, large, thought, substance, thine, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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