Robert Seymour Bridges

Shorter Poems. Book III. 16. Song (I love my lady’s eyes)

I love my lady’s eyes
Above the beauties rare
She most is wont to prize,
Above her sunny hair,
And all that face to face
Her glass repeats of grace.

For those are still the same
To her and all that see:
But oh! her eyes will flame
When they do look on me:
And so above the rest
I love her eyes the best.

Now say, [_Say, O say! saith the music_] who likes my song?—
I knew you by your eyes,
That rest on nothing long,
And have forgot surprise;
And stray [_Stray, O stray! saith the music_] as mine will stray,
The while my love’s away.