I KNOW not why, but ev'n to me My songs seem sweet when read to thee. Perhaps in this the pleasure lies— I read my thoughts within thine eyes. And so dare fancy that my art May sink as deeply as thy heart. Perhaps I love to make my words Sing round thee like so many birds, Or, Maybe, they are only sweet As they seem offerings at thy feet. Or haply, Lily, when I speak, I think, perchance, they touch thy cheek, Or with a yet more precious bliss, Die on thy red lips in a kiss. Each reason here—I cannot tell— Or all perhaps may solve the spell. But if she watch when I am by, Lily may deeper see than I. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAVES FIRST by CARL PHILLIPS BALLADE OF WENCHES by FRANCOIS VILLON MORNING IN CAMP by HERBERT BASHFORD DON JUAN: CANTO 1 by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THADDEUS STEVENS by PHOEBE CARY AFTER AUGHRIM by ARTHUR GERALD GEOGHEGAN THE IMPROVISATORE: ALBERT AND EMILY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |