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Robert Louis Stevenson · Modernismo
inglés
TO what shall I compare her,
That is as fair as she?
For she is fairer—fairer
Than the sea.
What shall be likened to her,
The sainted of my youth?
For she is truer—truer
Than the truth.
As the stars are from the sleeper,
Her heart is hid from me;
For she is deeper—deeper
Than the sea.
Yet in my dreams I view her
Flush rosy with new ruth—
Dreams! Ah, may these prove truer
Than the truth.
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