Reading Time: < 1 minute

Poem

Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
And hands to make his hands rejoice,
But to my lover I must be
Only a voice.

Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
And lips whereon his lips can lie,
But I must be till I am dead
Only a cry.

Submitted by Venus

Previous Poem
A Ballad Of The Two Knights
Next Poem
A Minuet Of Mozart’s