Dear Love, who art my own, my all,
I know your laughter, it is gay,
And when your laughs on me do fall
I laugh myself for this great day.
Then see I, too, your laughing eyes;
Your laughing thoughts I guzzle deep.
No puzzling life is for the wise
Who deepest love they deeply keep.
And you keep me, and I keep you,
And light as stars our life-strings are,
Or lyric winds o’er waters blue
Which carry us like petals far.
We swing together, brush, not pass,
Then laugh awhile and sing sweet song;
Full flower, then, we lie in grass
And sip in deep our light so strong.
Dear Love, who art my laughing wife—
Sincere with wink for good things done—
All walls of dark are petty strife
To we whose laughter leads the sun.