EYES

My heart is sick because of all the eyes

That look upon you drinkingly.

They almost touch you with their fever look!

O keep your beauty like a mystic gem,

Clear-surfaced — give no fibre grain of hold

To those prehensile amorous bold eyes!

My heart is sick!

O love, let not my heart

Corrupt the flower of your liberty —

Go spend your beauty like the summer sky

That makes a radius of every glance,

And with your morning color light them all!