Explore "To Nanine" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Dear, if I never saw your face again; / If all the music of your voice were mute / As that of a forlorn and broken lute; / If only in my dreams I might attain / The benediction of your touch, how vain / Were Faith to justify the old pursuit / Of happiness, or Reason to confute / The pessimist philosophy of pain.
Yet Love not altogether is unwise, / For still the wind would murmur in the corn, / And still the sun would splendor all the mere; / And I -- I could not, dearest, choose but hear / Your voice upon the breeze and see your eyes / Shine in the glory of the summer morn.