John Hay

(8 October 1838 – 1 July 1905 / Salem, Indiana)

Infinite Variety - Poem by John Hay

In my one love are many loves entwined;
Each hour makes me unfaithful to the last;
The beauty present dims the beauty past;
Of her worst rivals is her self combined.
When she is pale, in her dear cheek I find
The fairest shade on earth was ever cast;
And if she blush, that hue is not surpassed
In roses ruffled by the wanton wind.
Sometimes her sweet lips droop to a purpose sad;
Then all my soul in loving sympathy
Burns to dispel her sadness with a kiss;
And when they flash and curve in laughter glad,
Around the corners of her mouth I see
A swarm of hovering loves, sporting in bliss.

Comments about Infinite Variety by John Hay

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: sympathy, laughter, beauty, sometimes, kiss, sad, wind, rose

Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003

[Report Error]