| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | IX. To J. M. B. | | By George Henry Boker (1823–1890) |
| | | I WONDER, darling, if there does not wear | |
| Something from love, with love’s so daily use, | |
| If in the sweetness of his vigorous juice | |
| Time’s bitter finger dips not here and there? | |
| What thing of earthly growth itself can bear | 5 |
| Above its nature, overrule abuse, | |
| And, like the marvel of the widow’s cruse, | |
| Freshen its taint, and all its loss repair? | |
| I can but wonder at the faithful heart | |
| That makes thy face so joyous in my sight, | 10 |
| And fills each moment with a new delight. | |
| I can but wonder at the shades that start | |
| Across thy features as we stand to-night, | |
| With lips thus clinging, in the act to part. | | | | |
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