When I gazed into her eyes,
the windows to her soul,
I felt unworthy to behold,
what the vision revealed.
It is for men to have beatific visions
of a heavenly life to come,
not to observe such glory in this world.
And yet there I was,
privileged, yet I know not why.
Bestowed with grace,
by one who could choose better if she desired.
What am I? Undeserving, yes this is true.
Privileged and lifted up also is my claim.
But I claim not, the possessor of my dreams.
For one would be more sane to declare ownership of all that is beautiful,
untouched by decay,
now and forever,
than to assert her love belongs only to myself.
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