I marvel not that they have loved you so—
The gifted ones who knew you;
Gazing upon your face, I know
Why poet and why painter drew you;
Perceive the mystic thing divine
That brought their hearts to worship at your shrine!
How much the eyes are windows to the soul
Your poet eyes have taught me,—
Those shadowed orbs that seem the goal
Of all that fairest dreams have brought me,—
And, in their depths revealing you,
Win from my heart a tender homage, too.