If I were but a painter
I'd make your picture, dear,
In hues which grow no fainter,
But brighten year by year;
And if I were a singer
With voice that caroled true,
That voice would be the bringer
Of notes of love to you!
And if I were a player
Behind the footlights' blaze,
In graver scenes or gayer
My lines should speak your praise;
A poet or a writer
I'd pen your glory, too;
A soldier or a fighter-
The fight should be for you!
But I'm so ordinary,
So plain and commonplace,
I know no way to vary
The praises of your grace;
My ways of turtle-doving
Are simple, tried and few,
My only art is lover-
And all my love's for you! |
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