You are too lovely and your heart too kind
For any tongue or poetry to praise;
If nature could but celebrate your mind
We would possess eternal summer days.
Upon the grieves contained in my life's art,
Your presence pours and softly overflows
Until I fall converted to your heart
That offers me the salve of sweet repose.
Of all the parts that others do possess,
I see their brightest aspects fall to shade
And in your friendship now I will confess
My winter heart has seen its summer made.