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The Lust of the Eyes

I care not for my Lady's soul
Though I worship before her smile;
I care not where be my Lady's goal
When her beauty should lose it's wile.

Low sit I down at my Lady's feet
Gazing through her wild eyes
Smiling to think how my love will fleet
When their starlike beauty dies.

I care not if my Lady pray
To our Father which is in Heaven.
Then carry me through the dim twilight
And hide me among the graves.

Then who shall close my Lady's eyes
And who shall fold her hands?
Will any harken if she cries
Up to the unknown lands?

--Elizabeth Siddal