Tag Archives: Rev. Charles Wolfeby

To Love And Be Loved

Love

The following poem is one of my favorites.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all.

Oh, My Love Has An Eye Of The Softest Blue

Oh, my love has an eye of the softest blue,
Yet it was not that that won me;
But a little bright drop from her soul was there,
‘Tis that that has undone me.

I might have pass’d that lovely cheek,
Nor perchance my heart have left me;
But the sensitive blush that came trembling there,
Of my heart if forever bereft me.

I might have forgotten that red, red lip,
Yet how from that thought to sever?
But there was a smile from the sunshine within,
And that smile I’ll remember forever.

Think not ’tis nothing but lifeless clay,
The elegant form that haunts me;
‘Tis the gracefully elegant mind that moves
In every step, that enchants me.

Let me not hear the nightgale sing,
Though I once in its notes delighted;
The feeling and mind that comes whispering forth
Has left me no music beside it.

Who could blame had I loved that face,
Ere my eye could twice explore her;
Yet it is for the fairy intelligence there,
And her warm, warm heart, I adore her.

by Rev. Charles Wolfeby
(Dublin; 1791-1823)

Happy Birthday, Hannah

For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition which I asked of Him. Therefore I also have lent him to the LORD; as long as he lives he shall be lent to the LORD.” 1 Samuel 1: 27-28 (NKJV)

It seems it was just yesterday that our beautiful daughter, Hannah, was born. When the nurse told me that she was a redhead, I almost didn’t believe her, but indeed she was. I had expected a blond child; after all her father and I were both blond as children. To watch Hannah grow into a lovely, intelligent, godly young woman has been a special privilege. We could not be more grateful for the precious treasure she is to us. Where did the time go?  Happy 21st birthday, my darling girl.

To A Little Girl

Oh, little girl with eyes of brown
And smiles that fairly light the town,
I wonder if you really know
Just why it is we love you so,
And why–with all the little girls
With shining eyes and tangled curls
That throng and dance this big world through–
Our hearts have room for only you.

Since other little girls are gay
And laugh and sing and romp in play,
And all are beautiful to see,
Why should you mean so much to me?
And why should Mother, day and night,
Make you her source of all delight,
And always find in your caress
Her greatest sum of happiness?

Oh, there’s a reason good for this,
You laughing little bright-eyed miss!
In all this town, with all its girls
With shining eyes and sun-kissed curls,
If we should search it through and through
We’d find not one so fair as you;
And none, however fair of face,
Within our hearts could take your place.

For, one glad day not long ago,
God sent you down to us below,
And said that you were ours to keep,
To guard awake and watch asleep;
And ever since the day you came
No other child has seemed the same;
No other smiles are quite so fair
As those which happily you wear.

We seem to live from day to day
To hear the things you have to say;
And just because God gave us you,
We prize the little things you do.
Though God has filled this world with flowers,
We like you best because you’re ours–
In you our greatest joys we know,
And that is why we love you so.

Edgar Albert Guest

And lastly, a poem for a young lady who is beautiful, both inside and out.

She Walks In Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

by Lord Byron

My special thanks to Ava Hill Photography, Spring, TX. Photo used with permission.
Also find Ava Hill Photography on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Ava-Hill-Photography/57912673445

Original Content: Copyright © 2012 by Susan E. Johnson
All rights reserved

Oh, My Love Has An Eye Of The Softest Blue

This romantic poem is a bit out of the ordinary for me, but while looking up an older poem that was recently reset to new music, I came across this poem and was reminded of a conversation that my husband just had with his cousin.  About the same hour that my father-in-law passed away four days ago, my husband’s cousin became the grandfather of a new baby girl. I was encouraged by God’s blessing of new life. When those that we love leave us for Heaven, God brings new loved-ones into our lives. These babies grow into adults, marry, and have children of their own.  Some day, should God so bless this baby girl, a fine young man will woo her, win her heart , and the cycle of life will continue.

Oh, My Love Has An Eye Of The Softest Blue

by Rev. Charles Wolfeby
(Dublin; 1791-1823)

Oh, my love has an eye of the softest blue,
Yet it was not that that won me;
But a little bright drop from her soul was there,
‘Tis that that has undone me.

I might have pass’d that lovely cheek,
Nor perchance my heart have left me;
But the sensitive blush that came trembling there,
Of my heart if forever bereft me.

I might have forgotten that red, red lip,
Yet how from that thought to sever?
But there was a smile from the sunshine within,
And that smile I’ll remember forever.

Think not ’tis nothing but lifeless clay,
The elegant form that haunts me;
‘Tis the gracefully elegant mind that moves
In every step, that enchants me.

Let me not hear the nightgale sing,
Though I once in its notes delighted;
The feeling and mind that comes whispering forth
Has left me no music beside it.

Who could blame had I loved that face,
Ere my eye could twice explore her;
Yet it is for the fairy intelligence there,
And her warm, warm heart, I adore her.

“Behold, you are fair, my love! Behold you are fair! You have dove’s eyes.” Song of Solomon 1:15 (NKJV)

 [The older poem to which I refer is “Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weap” (Mary Elizabeth Frye–1932) recently set to a new melody by Leah McHenry Smith. Here is the link. It is an incredibly beautiful song: http://www.reverbnation.com/leahmchenry]

Copyright © 2011 by Susan E. Johnson
All rights reserved