Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
IX. To J. M. B.
By George Henry Boker (1823–1890)
I WONDER, darling, if there does not wear
  Something from love, with love’s so daily use,
  If in the sweetness of his vigorous juice
  Time’s bitter finger dips not here and there?
What thing of earthly growth itself can bear        5
  Above its nature, overrule abuse,
  And, like the marvel of the widow’s cruse,
  Freshen its taint, and all its loss repair?
I can but wonder at the faithful heart
  That makes thy face so joyous in my sight,        10
  And fills each moment with a new delight.
I can but wonder at the shades that start
  Across thy features as we stand to-night,
  With lips thus clinging, in the act to part.

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