Love's Messengers.
He came from her, and though rough and uncouth,
It seemed her tenderness breathed out of him
As he re-worded her sweet sentences.
Even as a stony place, clothed with sweet flowers,
Seems itself to breathe perfume, and to be
Instinct with tenderness, so, fresh from her,
The roughness of his quality was charmed:
Love makes those lovable that deal with him.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
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