To Her

When I behold thy wondrous pretty eyes,
My heart is filled with joyous adoration.
Your beaming smile melts my moody ice,
And leaves me feeling full with admiration;

Your curly locks wave hap'ly in the sun,
Your graceful stride highlights your sweet complexion.
Your talents can compare with no one,
And thoughts of you are close to perfection;

But as the sun stops shining in the skies,
Your turn your eyes and think of me no more;
To no pleas responding, you arise
And leave me trapped behind your leaden door:

And since my bootless cries touch not thy heart,
I doubt you will appreciate my art!