For some far-flung Eurydice
Now when I leave my doorstep, I
shan't look into that waiting eye.
Peeping from beyond the curtain, it
is by some pain-wrought passion lit.
But though I let my mind now
wander, I shall not bestow
upon that starry gaze a glance
and keep my heart at steady stance.
But oh! The fire in that eye
that I perchance did once espy.
Let that flame not die before
I come to learn its secrets more.
If fancy lies across the road,
shall it dare to visit my abode?
They say it flies from eye to eye,
where it can burn or silent die.
But framed behind the window-pane,
that gaze has shifted like wind-blown rain
and now some storm has come about,
for the curtains all are put to rout.
And though I had only just begun
to turn, this game is all but done.
In the midst of the street, I stand with a frown-
Orpheus' lover has been taken back down.
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