Were Thine That Special Face

I wrote a poem, in classic style
I wrote it with my tongue and my cheeks and my lips in a smile
But of late my poem has a meaning so new
For demise a prize, it suddenly applies
To my darling
To you

Were thine that special face?
That face which fills my dreaming
Were thine the rhythm'd grace

Were thine the arm so lithe and slender
Were thine the lips so warm, so tender
Were thine the kiss divine

Were thine the love for me
The love which fills my dreaming
When all these charms are thine
Then you'll be mine, all mine

Were thine the love for me
The love which filled my dreaming
When all these charms are thine
Then you'll be mine, all mine