George Sylvester Viereck
The Candle And The Flame
Thy hands are like cool herbs that bring
Balm to men's hearts, upon them laid;
Thy lovely-petalled lips are made
As any blossom of the spring.
But in thine eyes there is a thing,
O Love, that makes me half afraid.
For they are old, those eyes . . . They gleam
Between the waking and the dream