Name the leaves on all the trees,
Name the waves on all the seas,
Name the notes of all the groves--
Thus thou namest all my loves.
I do love the dark, the fair,
Golden ringlets, raven hair,
Eye that swims in sunny light,
Glance that shoots like lightning bright.
I do love the stately dame
And the sportive girl the same;
Every changeful phase between
Blooming cheek and brow serene.
I do love the young, the old,
Maiden modest, virgin bold,
Tiny beauties, and the tall--
Earth has room enough for all.
Which is better--who can say?--
Lucy grave or Mary gay?
She who half her charms conceals?
She who sparkles while she feels?
Why should I confine my love?
Nature bids us freely rove;
God hath scatter'd wide the fair,
Blooms and beauties everywhere.
Paris was a pedant fool,
Meting beauty by a rule:
Pallas? Juno? Venus?--he
Should have chosen all the three.
I am wise, life's every bliss
Thankful tasting; and a kiss
Is a sweet thing, I declare,
From a dark maid or a fair.