The Veil

I think and think: yet still I fail —

Why must this lady wear a veil?

Why thus elect to mask her face

Beneath that dainty web of lace?

The tip of a small nose I see,

And two red lips, set curiously

Like twin-born berries on one stem,

And yet, she has netted even them.

Her eyes, 'tis plain, survey with ease

Whate'er to glance upon they please.

Yet, whether hazel, gray, or blue,

Or that even lovelier lilac hue,

I cannot guess: why — why deny

Such beauty to the passer-by?

Out of a bush a nightingale

May expound his song; from 'neath that veil

A happy mouth no doubt can make

English sound sweeter for its sake.

But then, why muffle in like this

What every blossomy wind would kiss?

Why in that little night disguise

A daybreak face, those starry eyes?