Oh! what cares Love for a sunburnt skin?
Love laughs and sighs for it all the same;
Love seeks a blush that is far within
From the glow of his asking eyes that came—
Oh! what cares Love for untidy hair?
He sleeps where never a comb has passed,
And holds his breath in the tiny snare
Of a curl his kiss shall undo at last—
Oh! what cares Love for a tender heart?
His eyes are filled to their glorious brim;
On tears, on tears from a shining start
Love bears it gently away with him.
Oh! what cares Love for a wounded breast?
Love shows his own with a broader scar:
'Tis only those who have loved the best
Can say where the wounds of loving are.