41 To Eva

O FAIR and stately maid, whose eyes

Were kindled in the upper skies

At the same torch that lighted mine;

For so I must interpret still

Thy sweet dominion o’er my will,

A sympathy divine.

Ah! let me blameless gaze upon

Features that seem at heart my own;

Nor fear those watchful sentinels,

Who charm the more their glance forbids,

Chaste-glowing, underneath their lids,

With fire that draws while it repels.