Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Little Book of Modern Verse. 1917.
Joyce Kilmer
Ballade of My Ladys Beauty
S
Two wives had he, for his delight,
He kissed and clypt them all the day
And clypt and kissed them all the night.
Now Eve like ocean foam was white
And Lilith roses dipped in wine,
But though they were a goodly sight
No lady is so fair as mine.
And Queen of Beauty she is hight,
And Sainte Marie the world doth sway
In cerule napery bedight.
My wonderment these twain invite,
Their comeliness it is divine,
And yet I say in their despite,
No lady is so fair as mine.
For love of her brave men did fight,
The eyes of her made sages fey
And put their hearts in woeful plight
To her no rhymes will I indite,
For her no garlands will I twine,
Though she be made of flowers and light
No lady is so fair as mine.
Who on Olympus dost recline,
Do I not tell the truth aright?
No lady is so fair as mine.