SMILE on me, mouth of red--so much too red, <br />Shine on me, eyes which darkened lashes shade, <br />Turn, turn my way, oh glorious golden head, <br />My soul is lost, then let the price be paid! <br />Amid rich flowers your rosy lamplight gleams, <br />Amid rich hangings pass your scented hours, <br />And woods and fields are green but in my dreams, <br />And only in my dreams grow meadow-flowers. <br /> <br />I have forgotten everything but you-- <br />The apple orchard where the whitethroat sings, <br />The quiet fields, the moonlight, and the dew, <br />The virgin's bower that in wet hedgerow clings. <br />I have forgotten how the cool grass waves <br />Where clean winds blow, and where good women pray <br />For happy, honest men, safe in their graves; <br />And--oh, my God! I would I were as they!<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/despair-81/
