Shapes and Shadows — The Blind God

THE BLIND GOD.

I know not if she be unkind, If she have faults I do not care;

Search through the world--where will you find A face like hers, a form, a mind?

_I love her to despair.

_ If she be cruel, cruelty Is a great virtue, I will swear;

If she be proud--then pride must be Akin to Heaven's divinest three-- _I love her to despair.

_ Why speak to me of that and this?

All you may say weighs not a hair!

In her,--whose lips I may not kiss,-- To me naught but perfection is!

-- _I love her to despair.

_