I think and think: yet still I fail — Why must this lady wear a veil?
Why thus elect to mask her
Beneath that dainty web of lace?
The tip of a small nose I see,
And two red lips, set
Like twin-born berries on one stem,
And yet, she has netted even them.
Her eyes, 'tis plain, survey with
Whate'er to glance upon they please.
Yet, whether hazel, gray, or blue,
Or that even lovelier lilac hue,
I cannot guess: why — why
Such beauty to the passer-by?
Out of a bush a
May expound his song; from 'neath that veilA happy mouth no doubt can
English sound sweeter for its sake.
But then, why muffle in like
What every blossomy wind would kiss?
Why in that little night disguiseA daybreak face, those starry eyes?
