  Oh! what cares Love for a sunburnt skin? Love laughs and sighs for it all the same; Love seeks a blush that is far within From the glow of his asking eyes that came— Oh! what cares Love for untidy hair? He sleeps where never a comb has passed, And holds his breath in the tiny snare Of a curl his kiss shall undo at last— Oh! what cares Love for a tender heart? His eyes are filled to their glorious brim; On tears, on tears from a shining start Love bears it gently away with him. Oh! what cares Love for a wounded breast? Love shows his own with a broader scar: 'Tis only those who have loved the best Can say where the wounds of loving are. |
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