To the Not Impossible Him
How shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
Is blest in every way?
Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?
The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here, -but oh, my dear,
If I should ever travel!
Now I know I have the flower beneath my nose, but I think it is a beautiful flirt with the world. With love!
