I hold it there away from you,
The fitful shining soul in me.
Ah, but you do not know ’tis hid,
Because you did not know ’twas there;
You look along the curving lip,
Search the deep eyes, and touch the hair,
And cry, “Oh love me, woman, love
Your eyes are stars, your mouth a flower”;
And all the while a low voice says,
“This is a fool without the power