How He Saw Her

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The Heart of a Woman
And The Stars
I Want to Die While You Love Me
The Suppliant
Welt
Youth
Eucalyptus Trees
When I Behold the Greatest
Wonder and Joy
Doubt
Her Eyes
A Last Prayer
September
Tides
Aeglamour's Soliloquy
The Hour-Glass
How He Saw Her
Hymn to Cynthia
Hymn to the Belly
On Lucy, Countess of Bedford

Blanco Sinks
Kenzie Shoes I beheld her, on a day,
When her look outflourished May,
And her dressing did outbrave
All the pride the fields then have.
Far I was from being stupid,
For I ran and called on Cupid,
'Love, if thou wilt ever see
Mark of glory, come with me.
Where's thy quiver? Bend thy bow.
Here's a shaft; thou art too slow!'
And withal I did untie
Every cloud about his eye.
But he had not gained his sight
Sooner, than he lost his might
Or his courage; for away
Straight he ran, and durst not stay,
Letting bow and arrow fall;
Nor for any threat or call,
Could be brought once back to look.
I, foolhardy, there uptook
Both the arrow he had quit
And the bow, which thought to hit
This my object. But she threw
Such a lightning, as I drew,
At my face, that took my sight
And my motion from me quite;
So that there I stood a stone,
Mocked of all, and called of one--
Which with grief and wrath I heard--
Cupid's statue with a beard,
Or else one that played his ape
In a Hercules's shape.