Poems (Denver)/Those Eyes
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THOSE EYES.
Have they no bottom to their depths,
Those eyes, those well-like eyes of thine?
I long to see an image there—
Perchance I may see mine.
Those eyes, those well-like eyes of thine?
I long to see an image there—
Perchance I may see mine.
So softly still, so deeply blue,
Like skies with starry gems inset,
Looking in troubled beauty down,
They gaze upon one yet.
Like skies with starry gems inset,
Looking in troubled beauty down,
They gaze upon one yet.
I would, I would that I might trace
Some little passion in those eyes—
Might see one single imaged face
Upon their surface rise!
Some little passion in those eyes—
Might see one single imaged face
Upon their surface rise!
Like hieroglyphics, traced with care
On antique monumental stone,
I see a world of meaning there,
Yet can decipher none.
On antique monumental stone,
I see a world of meaning there,
Yet can decipher none.
I've heard it said that eyes were made
The mirrors of the human soul;
But upon thine a spell is laid;
Thy heart hath learned control.
The mirrors of the human soul;
But upon thine a spell is laid;
Thy heart hath learned control.
Down to thy heart I would look through
Those telescopic eyes of thine;
Perchance some face might meet my view—
Perchance I might see mine.
Those telescopic eyes of thine;
Perchance some face might meet my view—
Perchance I might see mine.