Catarina to Camoens

On the door you will not enter,

      I have gazed too long—adieu!

Hope withdraws her peradventure—

      Death is near me,—and not you!

                  Come, O lover,

                  Close and cover

These poor eyes, you called, I ween,

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

When I heard you sing that burden

      In my vernal days and bowers,

Other praises disregarding,

      I but hearkened that of yours,—

                  Only saying

                  In heart-playing,

"Blessed eyes mine eyes have been,

If the sweetest, his have seen!"

But all changeth! At this vesper,

      Cold the sun shines down the door!

If you stood there, would you whisper

      "Love, I love you," as before,—

                  Death pervading

                  Now, and shading

Eyes you sang of, that yestreen,

As the sweetest, ever seen?

Yes! I think, were you beside them,

      Near the bed I die upon,—

Though their beauty you denied them,

      As you stood there, looking down,

                  You would truly

                  Call them duly,

For the love's sake found therein,—

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

And if you looked down upon them,

      And if they looked up to you,

All the light which has forgone them

      Would be gathered back anew

                  They would truly

                  Be as duly

Love-transformed to Beauty's sheen,—

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

But, ah me! you only see me

      In your thoughts of loving man,

Smiling soft perhaps and dreamy

      Through the wavings of my fan,—

                  And unweeting

                  Go repeating,

In your reverie serene,

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

While my spirit leans and reaches

      From my body still and pale,

Fain to hear what tender speech is

      In your love, to help my bale—

                  O my poet,

                  Come and show it!

Come of latest love to glean

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

O my poet, O my prophet,

      When you praised their sweetness so,

Did you think, in singing of it,

      That it might be near to go"

                  Had you fancies

                  From their glances,

That the grave would quickly screen

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"

No reply! The fountain's warble

      In the courtyard sounds alone!

As the water to the marble

      So my heart falls with a moan,

                  From love-sighing

                  To this dying!

Death forerunneth Love, to win

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

Will you come? when I'm departed

      Where all sweetnesses are hid—

When thy voice, my tender-hearted,

      Will not lift up either lid.

                  Cry, O lover,

                  Love is over!

Cry beneath the cypress green—

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

When the angelus is ringing,

      Near the convent will you walk,

And recall the choral singing

      Which brought angels down our talk?

                  Spirit shriven

                  I viewed Heaven,

Till you smiled—"Is earth unclean,

Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"

When beneath the palace-lattice,

      You ride slow as you have done,

And you see a face there—that is

      Not the old familiar one,—

                  Will you oftly

                  Murmur softly,

"Here, ye watched me morn and e'en,

Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"

When the palace ladies sitting

      Round your gittern, shall have said,

"Poet, sing those verses written

      For the lady who is dead,"—

                  Will you tremble,

                  Yet dissemble,—

Or sing hoarse, with tears between,

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"

Sweetest eyes! How sweet in flowings,

      The repeated cadence is!

Though you sang a hundred poems,

      Still the best one would be this.

                  I can hear it

                  'Twixt my spirit

And the earth-noise, intervene—

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"

But the priest waits for the praying,

      And the choir are on their knees,—

And the soul must pass away in

      Strains more solemn high than these

                  Miserere

                  For the weary—

Oh, no longer for Catrine,

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"

Keep my riband! take and keep it,—

      I have loosed it from my hair;

Feeling, while you overweep it,

      Not alone in your despair,—

                  Since with saintly

                  Watch, unfaintly,

Out of Heaven shall o'er you lean

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

But—but now—yet unremoved

      Up to Heaven, they glisten fast—

You may cast away, Beloved,

      In your future, all my past;

                  Such old phrases

                  May be praises

For some fairer bosom-queen—

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"

Eyes of mine, what are ye doing?

      Faithless, faithless;—praised amiss,

If a tear be on your showing,

      Dropt for any hope of his!

                  Death hath boldness

                  Besides coldness,

If unworthy tears demean

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

I will look out to his future—

      I will bless it till it shine!

Should he ever be a suitor

      Unto sweeter eyes than mine,

                  Sunshine gild them,

                  Angels shield them,

Whatsoever eyes terrene

Be the sweetest his have seen!