Classic Poem

Soft eyes of women many have I seen, —
But none so soft, so wonderful, so fair:
Locks have I kissed of golden and brown hair,
Lips have I kissed of many a rose-sweet queen,
But never any locks or lips, I ween,
Can with thy sacred tresses, or the rare
And perfect mouth that quivered once, compare:
The same eyes glance, — but now with tenderer sheen.

Gazing in awe, I see my song therein,
And all its sorrows, all its joy as well
Reflected: in the face I sought to win,
For which I climbed to heaven, and traversed hell,
I see the recompence for what hath been,
More sweet, more pure, more grand, than tongue can tell.