Beware proud rose,
Thy beauty does not last!
The weight of time
Will bend thy haughty neck
And petals once aflame with glory
Shall fade and lightly fall.
Not so my Liz!
Though the hand I love to hold
May one day slip my feeble grasp
And alabaster skin
May lose its brilliant luster
Still I will proclaim her beauty.
For though her features, radiant,
Outshine any rose:
A graceful neck to make a sculptor weep,
Hair that shines like copper in the sun,
Lips that tempt me with a stolen kiss;
When I gaze into her jeweled eyes
And see beyond
The heart that lies within
I know beauty certain to endure
The cold, hard stare of Time
And even Death.
So weep, poor rose,
That you cannot know
The fullness of my lover's beauty;
Brilliant image of our God eternal
Manifest before me every day
In this woman given me to cherish.
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