To J. S. B.

A poem by Edward Smyth Jones

On seeing her December 25th, 1904, after two years' travel.

Take, fair maid, these simple lines
From my pen;
Think of strollings 'neath the pines,
Which have been -
Long and lonesome were the days
We were apart,
But may Love, now, have her sways, -
Bind heart to heart!
O'er main to isle and back to land
Have I been;
Beheld on either hand
A maiden queen:
But none with captivating charms
Like thine;
None to nestle in her arms,
Love of mine!
Charms unto thee God gave
To banish strife;
To glorify and save
One sweet life -
Take this, dear, before we part
From this bliss;
'Tis but love flowing from my heart,
Thine to kiss!

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