Elizabeth Barrett Browning — Catarina to Camoens

I. On the door you will not enter,        &nbspI have gazed too long: adieu! Hope withdraws her peradventure;        &nbspDeath is near me,—and not you.        &nbsp       &nbspCome, O lover,        &nbsp       &nbspClose and cover These poor eyes, you called, I ween, “Sweetest eyes were ever seen!” II. When I heard you sing that burden        &nbspIn my vernal days and bowers, Other praises disregarding,        &nbspI but hearkened that of yours—        &nbsp       &nbspOnly saying        &nbsp       &nbspIn heart-playing, “Blessed eyes mine eyes have been, If the sweetest his have seen!” III. But all changes. At this vesper,        &nbspCold the sun shines down the door. If you stood there, would you whisper        &nbsp“Love, I love you,” as before,—        &nbsp       &nbspDeath pervading        &nbsp       &nbspNow, and shading Eyes you sang of, that yestreen, As the sweetest ever seen? IV. Yes. I think, were you beside them,        &nbspNear the bed I die upon, Though their beauty you denied them,        &nbspAs you stood there, looking down,        &nbsp       &nbspYou would truly        &nbsp       &nbspCall them duly, For the love’s sake found therein, “Sweetest eyes were ever seen.” V. And if you looked down upon them,        &nbspAnd if they looked up to you, All the light which has foregone them        &nbspWould be gathered back anew:        &nbsp       &nbspThey would truly        &nbsp       &nbspBe as duly Love-transformed to beauty’s sheen, “Sweetest eyes were ever seen.” VI. But, ah me! you only see me,        &nbspIn your thoughts of loving man, Smiling soft perhaps and dreamy        &nbspThrough the wavings of my fan;        &nbsp       &nbspAnd unweeting        &nbsp       &nbspGo repeating, In your reverie serene, “Sweetest eyes were ever seen——” VII. While my spirit leans and reaches        &nbspFrom my body still and pale, Fain to hear what tender speech is        &nbspIn your love to help my bale.        &nbsp       &nbspO my poet,        &nbsp       &nbspCome and show it! Come, of latest love, to glean “Sweetest eyes were ever seen.” VIII. O my poet, O my prophet,        &nbspWhen you praised their sweetness so, Did you think, in singing of it,        &nbspThat it might be near to go?        &nbsp       &nbspHad you fancies        &nbsp       &nbspFrom their glances, That the grave would quickly screen “Sweetest eyes were ever seen”? IX. No reply. The fountain’s warble        &nbspIn the courtyard sounds alone. As the water to the marble        &nbspSo my heart falls with a moan        &nbsp       &nbspFrom love-sighing        &nbsp       &nbspTo this dying. Death forerunneth Love to win “Sweetest eyes were ever seen.” X. Will you come? When I’m departed        &nbspWhere all sweetnesses are hid, Where thy voice, my tender-hearted,        &nbspWill not lift up either lid.        &nbsp       &nbspCry, O lover,        &nbsp       &nbspLove is over! Cry, beneath the cypress green, “Sweetest eyes were ever seen!” XI. When the angelus is ringing,        &nbspNear the convent will you walk, And recall the choral singing        &nbspWhich brought angels down our talk?        &nbsp       &nbspSpirit-shriven        &nbsp       &nbspI viewed Heaven, Till you smiled—“Is earth unclean, Sweetest eyes were ever seen?” XII. When beneath the palace-lattice        &nbspYou ride slow as you have done, And you see a face there that is        &nbspNot the old familiar one,—        &nbsp       &nbspWill you oftly        &nbsp       &nbspMurmur softly, “Here ye watched me morn and e’en, Sweetest eyes were ever seen!” XIII. When the palace-ladies, sitting        &nbspRound your gittern, shall have said, “Poet, sing those verses written        &nbspFor the lady who is dead,”        &nbsp       &nbspWill you tremble        &nbsp       &nbspYet dissemble,— Or sing hoarse, with tears between, “Sweetest eyes were ever seen”? XIV. “Sweetest eyes!” how sweet in flowings        &nbspThe repeated cadence is! Though you sang a hundred poems,        &nbspStill the best one would be this.        &nbsp       &nbspI can hear it        &nbsp       &nbsp’Twixt my spirit And the earth-noise intervene— “Sweetest eyes were ever seen!” XV. But the priest waits for the praying,        &nbspAnd the choir are on their knees, And the soul must pass away in        &nbspStrains more solemn-high than these.        &nbsp       &nbspMiserere        &nbsp       &nbspFor the weary! Oh, no longer for Catrine “Sweetest eyes were ever seen!” XVI. Keep my riband, take and keep it,        &nbsp(I have loosed it from my hair) Feeling, while you overweep it,        &nbspNot alone in your despair,        &nbsp       &nbspSince with saintly        &nbsp       &nbspWatch unfaintly Out of heaven shall o’er you lean “Sweetest eyes were ever seen.” XVII. But—but now—yet unremovèd        &nbspUp to heaven, they glisten fast; You may cast away, Belovèd,        &nbspIn your future all my past:        &nbsp       &nbspSuch old phrases        &nbsp       &nbspMay be praises For some fairer bosom-queen— “Sweetest eyes were ever seen!” XVIII. Eyes of mine, what are ye doing?        &nbspFaithless, faithless,—praised amiss If a tear be of your showing,        &nbspDropt for any hope of his!        &nbsp       &nbspDeath has boldness        &nbsp       &nbspBesides coldness, If unworthy tears demean “Sweetest eyes were ever seen.” XIX. I will look out to his future;        &nbspI will bless it till it shine. Should he ever be a suitor        &nbspUnto sweeter eyes than mine,        &nbsp       &nbspSunshine gild them,        &nbsp       &nbspAngels shield them, Whatsoever eyes terrene Be the sweetest his have seen!