To stir the scales, or rock the beam;
But that is dearest, all the while,
That wears for us the sweetest smile.
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
LOVE PENITENT
Paint me, Love, not, as of old,
Like a reveler overbold—
Roses dropping from his hair,
To stir the scales, or rock the beam;
But that is dearest, all the while,
That wears for us the sweetest smile.
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Paint me, Love, not, as of old,
Like a reveler overbold—
Roses dropping from his hair,