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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580133" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Fannie</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Write to thine eyes? Why, my poor pen<br>Quails at the unequal task;<br>I fear you don't appreciate<br>The mighty boon you ask.<br>Thine eyes, I know, oh! beautiful!<br>True poets would inspire;<br>But, dear, you should remember, that<br>I've not a poet's fire.<br>But still at thy request I call<br>My sleeping muse to me,<br>To write a sonnet to thine eyes-<br>Would it were worthy thee!<br>Tender and loving, soft and pure,<br>They pierce the heart of man;<br>And with the aid of Cupid's darts,<br>Maim all the hearts they can.<br>Bright as the stars in yonder sky,<br>They shine for all on earth:<br>So sad in sorrow, glad in joy,<br>And sparkling in their mirth.<br>They, like the eyes of the gazelle,<br>Gaze fondly where you love;<br>And who receives such gaze, esteems<br>Them angels from above.<br>Bright as the light of long-sought home<br>To pilgrims o'er earth's way,<br>Whose footsteps sore, have wandered far,<br>Through weary year and day.<br>The light of love, the light of truth,<br>From thy soft eyes e'er beam;<br>And from thy heart, so kind and true,<br>A host of virtues gleam.<br>Now if this sonnet, Fannie, dear,<br>Were written by a lover,<br>A thousand charms no doubt he'd see,<br>That I cannot discover.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Eliza+Perine+Tucker+Lambert">Mary Eliza Perine Tucker Lambert</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580133" data-title="To Fannie de Mary Eliza Perine Tucker Lambert" data-description="Write to thine eyes? Why, my poor pen
Quails at the unequal task;
I fear you don't appreciate
The mighty boon you ask.
Thine eyes, I know, oh! beautiful!
True poets would inspire;
But, dear, you should remember, that
I've not a poet's fire.
But st..."></div>
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