Most illogical Irrational nature of our womanhood, That blushes one way, feels another way, And prays, perhaps another!

I love you for the part of me that you bring out.

God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.

There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world; oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time!

Will that light come again, As now these tears come...falling hot and real!

Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.

A man may love a woman perfectly, and yet by no means ignorantly maintain a thousand women have not larger eyes. Enough that she alone has looked at him with eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.