William Stanley Braithwaite, "To Beatrice" (1901)
Heard far in the star -lit woods ,
Are not so sweetly audible
As the music of thy moods .
The hue of the woodland lily
By the verge of the forest pool ,
Glows not with such chaste, sweet beauty
As thy pure and gracious soul .
As the nightingale sings of the rose,
So my heart sings ofthee
As the moon in the garden glows
So glows thy soul to me.
As heart to heart inclines
When Love's sweet skies are blue,
So Beatrice, my soul divines
That my love is all for you!
Published in Colored American Magazine, September 1901