I am looking for Love. Has he passed this way, <br />With eyes as blue as the skies of May, <br />And a face as fair as the summer dawn?-- <br />You answer back, but I wander on,-- <br />For you say: 'Oh, yes; but his eyes were gray, <br />And his face as dim as a rainy day.' <br /> <br />Good friends, I query, I search for Love; <br />His eyes are as blue as the skies above, <br />And his smile as bright as the midst of May <br />When the truce-bird pipes: Has he passed this way? <br />And one says: 'Ay; but his face, alack! <br />Frowned as he passed, and his eyes were black.' <br /> <br />O who will tell me of Love? I cry! <br />His eyes are as blue as the mid-May sky, <br />And his face as bright as the morning sun; <br />And you answer and mock me, every one, <br />That his eyes were dark, and his face was wan, <br />And he passed you frowning and wandered on. <br /> <br />But stout of heart will I onward fare, <br />Knowing _my_ Love is beyond--somewhere,-- <br />The Love I seek, with the eyes of blue, <br />And the bright, sweet smile unknown of you; <br />And on from the hour his trail is found <br />I shall sing sonnets the whole year round.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-quest-27/
