Lesbia hath a beaming eye, <br />But no one knows for whom it beameth; <br />Right and left its arrows fly, <br />But what they aim at no one dreameth. <br />Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon <br />My Nora's lid that seldom rises; <br />Few its looks, but every one, <br />Like unexpected light, surprises! <br />Oh, my Nora Creina, dear, <br />My gentle, bashful Nora Creina, <br />Beauty lies <br />In many eyes, <br />But Love in yours, my Nora Creina. <br /> <br />Lesbia wears a robe of gold, <br />But all so close the nymph hath laced it, <br />Not a charm of beauty's mould <br />Presumes to stay where Nature placed it. <br />Oh! my Nora's gown for me, <br />That floats as wild as mountain breezes, <br />Leaving every beauty free <br />To sink or swell as Heaven pleases. <br />Yes, my Nora Creina, dear, <br />My simple, graceful Nora Creina, <br />Nature's dress <br />Is loveliness -- <br />The dress you wear, my Nora Creina. <br /> <br />Lesbia hath a wit refined, <br />But, when its points are gleaning round us, <br />Who can tell if they're design'd <br />To dazzle merely, or to wound us? <br />Pillow'd on my Nora's heart, <br />In safer slumber Love reposes -- <br />Bed of peace! whose roughest part <br />Is but the crumpling of the roses. <br />Oh! my Nora Creina, dear, <br />My mild, my artless Nora Creina! <br />Wit, though bright, <br />Hath no such light <br />As warms your eyes, my Nora Creina.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lesbia-hath-a-beaming-eye/
