Thou Art My Lute

Thou art my lute, by thee I sing,--
My being is attuned to thee.
Thou settest all my words a-wing,
And meltest me to melody.

Thou art my life, by thee I live,
From thee proceed the joys I know;
Sweetheart, thy hand has power to give
The meed of love--the cup of woe.

Thou art my love, by thee I lead
My soul the paths of light along,
From vale to vale, from mead to mead,
And home it in the hills of song.

My song, my soul, my life, my all,
Why need I pray or make my plea,
Since my petition cannot fall;
For I 'm already one with thee!

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Comments (7)

A simple yet very profound love song. Thanks for sharing it here.
very straight from the heart
thy hand has power to give The meed of love- the cup of woe. The uncomplicated rhythm, nonostentatious vocabulary, and easy, almost natural rhyming belie the deeper beauty of this poem. The words do not get in the way of a sentiment expressed with natural power, like love itself.
Excellent poem. I like it very much.
A lovely poem of love.
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