by W.B. Wilson
Agnes
BLUE EYES
There’s an exquisite something about her,
Some undefinable grace
Of spirit or form, that without her
Dear presence about the place,
Sends the covetous heartaches thronging
Each other in wild surprise,
That I can not control the longing
To gaze in her sweet blue eyes.
Such eyes: In their limpid beauty,
So pleasant and strong and true,
Urging me on, when duty
Seems more than my strength can do.
I toil, and deem it a pleasure,
Yet, pray that God may devise
For me a lifetime of leisure
To gaze in her sweet blue eyes.
The Wilson index:
• William Bauchop Wilson Main Page
• Coming to America
• Growing up in Arnot, Pennsylvania
• The Next 20 Years
• Secretary-Treasurer of the United Mine Workers of America
• Congress
• The Family
• Ferniegair Farm Blossburg, Pennsylvania
• Bibliography