Still The Maid I Most Prefer Poem by Phiwokuhle Mpendulo Manana

When I behold the skies aloft
Passing the pageantry of dreams,
The cloud whose bosom, cygnet-soft,
A couch for nuptial I seems,
The ocean broad, the mountains bright,
The shadowy vales with feeding herds,
I, from my lyre the music smite,
Nor want for justly matching words.
All forces of the sea and air,
All interests of hill and plain,
I so can sing, in seasons fair,
That who hath felt may feel again.
Elated oft by such free songs,
I think with utterance free to raise
That hymn for which the whole world longs,


A worthy hymn in woman's praise;
A hymn bright-noted like a bird's,
Arousing these songs-living times
With rhapsodies of perfect words,
Ruled by returning kiss of rhymes.


But when I look on you and hope
To tell with joy what I admire,
My thoughts lie cramp'd in narrow scope,
Or in the feeble birth expire;
No mystery of well-woven speech,
No simplest phrase of tenderest fall,
No liken'd excellence can reach
Yours, all these most excellent of all,
The best half of creation's best,
Its heart to feel, its eye to see,
The crown and complex of the rest,
Its aim and its epitome.
Nay, might I utter my conceit,
'Twere after all an alluring song,
For you're the only one,
My deepest rapture won't do you wrong.
Yet is it now my chosen task
To sing to you worth as Maid and Wife;
Nor happier post than this I ask,
To live your laureate all my life.


On wings of love uplifted free,
And by thy gentleness made great,
I'll teach how noble man should be
To match with such a lovely mate;
And then in her may move the more
The woman's wish to be desired,
(By praise increased) , till both shall soar,
With blissful emulations fired.
And, as geranium, pink, or rose
Is thrice itself through power of art,
So may my happy skill disclose
New fairness even in thy fair heart;
Until that churl shall nowhere be.
Who bends not, awed, before the throne
Of her affecting majesty,
So meek, so far unlike your own;
Until (for who may hope too much
From thee who wields the powers of love?)

Please accept, For With you,
Our lifted lives at last shall touch
That happy goal to which we move;
Until we find, as darkness rolls
Away, and evil mists dissolve in the fire.
That nuptial contrasts are the poles
On which the heavenly spheres revolve.


Love at Large.
Love and Duty.
You live so truly handy nearby,
You are so gentle and so good,
That duty bade me fall in love,
And 'but for that, ' thought I, 'I should! '
I worshipp'd God with all my will,
In idle moods you seem to see
A noble spirit in a hill,
A human touch about a tree.


Distinction.
The lack of lovely pride, in you
Who strives to please, my pleasure numbs,
And still the maid I most prefer
Whose care to please with pleasing comes.