For that thy face is fair I love thee not; br Nor yet because the light of thy brown eyes br Hath gleams of wonder and of glad surprise, br Like woodland streams that cross a sunlit spot: br Nor for thy beauty, born without a blot, br Most perfect when it shines through no disguise br Pure as the star of Eve in Paradise, --- br For all these outward things I love thee not: br br But for a something in thy form and face, br Thy looks and ways, of primal harmony; br A certain soothing charm, a vital grace br That breathes of the eternal womanly, br And makes me feel the warmth of Nature's breast, br When in her arms, and thine, I sink to rest.