If I could choose

If I could choose my paradise,

And please myself with choice of bliss,

The I would have your soft blue eyes

And rosy little mouth to kiss!

Your lips, as smooth and tender, child,

As rose leaves in a coppice wild.

If fate bade choose some sweet unrest,

To weave my troubled life a snare,

Then I would say "Her maiden breast,

And golden ripple of her hair;"

And weep amid those tresses, child,

Contented to be thus beguiled.