Shapes and Shadows — Carissima Mea

CARISSIMA MEA.

I look upon my lady's face, And, in the world about me, see No face like hers in any place: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ It is not made, as others sing Of their dear loves, like ivory, But like a wild rose in the spring: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Her brow is low and very fair, And o'er it, smooth and shadowy, Lies deep the darkness of her hair: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Beneath her brows her eyes are gray, And gaze out glad and fearlessly, Their wonder haunts me night and day: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Her eyebrows, arched and delicate, Twin curves of pencilled ebony, Within their spans contain my fate: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Her mouth, that was for kisses curved, So small and sweet, it well may be That it for me is yet reserved: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Between her hair and rounded chin, Calm with her soul's calm purity, There lies no shadow of a sin: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Of perfect form, she is not tall, Just higher than the heart of me, Where'er I place her, all in all: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ She is not shaped, as some have sung Of their dear loves, like some slim tree, But like the moon when it is young: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Her hands, that smell of violet, So white and fashioned gracefully, Have woven round my heart a net: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Yea, I have loved her many a day;

And though for me she may not be, Still at her feet my love I lay: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ Albeit she be not for me, GOD send her grace and grant that she Know nought of sorrow all her days: _Therefore it is I sing her praise.

_ _Margery.

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