What poetry I see in thine eyes,
When they glisten with emotion.
What of it when we say our good-byes?
Without warning or provocation;
Your tears will fill my dreams.
What present harm have I done
For shame to well up inside of me;
Or has joy brought about that sea?
Come now, let us have none;
Dry your eyes and see me to home.
You crucify me with your stares;
Is the time together not well spent,
Or is that look one of care?
'Tis a fine line betwixt love and hate,
One that is old and ancient.
I trust your visage is one of passion;
So off I go, and you to bed;
Dream sweet dreams of my affections,
Awake with a thought of me in your head,
And smile tomorrow, a thousand smiles instead.
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