THE BLIND GOD
I know not if she be unkind;
If she have faults, I do not care.
Search through the world—where will you find
A face like hers, a form, a mind?—
I love her to despair!
If she be cruel, cruelty
Is a great virtue, I will swear:
If she be proud, then pride must be
Better than all humility.—
I love her to despair!
Why speak to me of that or this?
All you may say weighs not a hair!
To me, naught but perfection is
In her, whose lips I may not kiss!—
I love her to despair!
CARA MIA
I
Sweet lips, where kisses sleep,
Soft eyes, so filled with dreams,
Waken, oh waken!
Open your blossoms deep,
Sweet lips, where kisses sleep:
Unfold your brightest beams,
Soft eyes, so filled with dreams:
Waken, oh, waken!
II
Sweet lips, that give perfume,
Soft eyes, that kindle light,
Come, let me kiss you!—
To every flower in bloom,
Sweet lips, you lend perfume!
In every star at night,
Soft eyes, you kindle light!—
Come, let me kiss you!