Classic Poem

I.

When thou dost watch me with those clear brown eyes
I have the strangest sense
That some immortal spirit from the skies
Watches, with gaze intense.

II.

Thou art not woman, but a spirit high
Clothed, here, in woman's form.
I shall not understand thee till I die—
And yet thy lips are warm!—

III.

Thou hast the lips of woman, and her brow,
And thy superb black hair
Maddened me at the first, and maddens now:
And yet thou hast an air

IV.

Of subtle spirithood that more than all
Allures and prisoneth me.
I love the woman:—at the feet I fall
Of the divine in thee.