Thine eyes are kindly bent on mine,
Their gentle glance I scarce can bear:
It bids me every hope resign,
It fills my soul with deep despair.
Alas! that look so kind, so calm, so free
Tells me thou lovest not as I love thee.

When thou'rt afar I see thy face;
Before me still it softly gleams;
The vision has not half thy grace,
I cannot paint thee in my dreams:
Yet ah! dear face, would'st thou but gaze on me
With such a look as in those dreams I see.

The vision changes in my sight,
No more it looks as I am feeling;
'Twas Hope lit up that sunny light
A lover's full glad heart revealing;
Hope joined with Love to frame that vision fair;
Now Love's bright work is shadowed by Despair.

Then bend thine eyes no more on mine,
Since love alone those looks inspire,
Those looks with their soft sunny shine
Kindle a sharp consuming fire,
And, while they glow with Hope and youthful glee,
Silence each pulse of Hope that beats in me.