Thomas Hood

Here you will find the Poem Love, Dearest Lady, Such As I Would Speak of poet Thomas Hood

Love, Dearest Lady, Such As I Would Speak

Love, dearest Lady, such as I would speak, 
Lives not within the humor of the eye;? 
Not being but an outward phantasy, 
That skims the surface of a tinted cheek,? 
Else it would wane with beauty, and grow weak, 
As if the rose made summer,?and so lie 
Amongst the perishable things that die, 
Unlike the love which I would give and seek: 
Whose health is of no hue?to feel decay 
With cheeks' decay, that have a rosy prime. 
Love is its own great loveliness alway, 
And takes new lustre from the touch of time; 
Its bough owns no December and no May, 
But bears its blossom into Winter's clime.