To My Queen (who knows who she is)

Oh, life’s heavenly Art of Harmony,
Now finalized in loveliest face of all,
Hath granted me Love’s joy, whereby I see
You’re not mere painting glancing from a wall,
Nor faint fair dream of looking-off ideal,
But are the whole, soul, goal, of all that’s real.
Oh, you, my love, so beautiful are to me,
I cannot see why men have minds to know,
Or lungs for breathing, action in their feet,
If they should never lay lost eyes on thee
To witness, found, the glory of life’s show—
My Queen, my star, my risen day so sweet,
Who’s lips and hair and eyes do harmonize
With new-discovered wonders of the skies!

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