The Sunshine of Thine Eyes

The sunshine of thine eyes,
(O still, celestial beam!)
Whatever it touches it fills
With the life of its lambent gleam.

The sunshine of thine eyes,
Oh, let it fall on me!
Though I be but a mote of the air,
I could turn to gold for thee.

poem by George Parsons Lathrop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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