With Those Clear Eyes

Look at me, love, with those clear eyes
In which I see the thoughts arise,
As, gazing in a limpid well,
Unto Narcissus it befell
To see himself with glad surprise.

Blue with the blue of summer skies, —
Dear skies, behind which heaven lies, —
With one swift gaze my gloom dispel.
Look at me, love!

See all my heart! Its weakest cries,
Its lonely prayers, its longing sighs,
A language are which you can spell;
You do not need what words can tell
On printed page to make you wise.
Look at me, love!
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.