The Eyes of Dorothy

O mistress of a myriad mysteries!
I can remember every curve and span
Of every lovely thing; I have the plan
Of every crested crag and maze of ice
That ever I beheld; then what device,
Strange sorceress, has barred me with its ban
From you? How is it, mistress, that I can
Remember nothing of you but your eyes?

Your eyes! Live arrows with a thousand deaths
Armed! Suns of poison, menacing the wreaths
Of by and myrtle that you twined! Dread spies
Of Satan that unveil the God in me,
And strip it naked with their mockery!
Death! will you never take away your eyes?


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