Upon thine eyes, so lovely,
Have I written o'er and o'er
Immortal songs and sonnets—
My darling, what wouldst thou more?
And with thine eyes so lovely
Thou hast stung me to the core,
And hast compassed my undoing—
My darling, what wouldst thou more?
LXV.
He who for the first time loves,
E'en rejected, is a god.
He who loves a second time,
Unrequited, is a fool.
Such a fool am I, in loving
Once again with no return.
Sun and moon and stars are laughing;
I am laughing too—and dying.
LXVI.
They gave me advice, they counseled sense,
They overpowered with compliments.
Patience! they said, and in my need
They'd prove themselves my friends indeed.
Despite their promise to help and protect,
I surely had perished of sheer neglect,
Had there not come a worthy man,
Who bravely to help me now began.
Oh, the worthy man! he gave me to eat;
Such kindness as his I shall never forget.
I long to embrace him, but never can,
For I am myself this excellent man.