Priscilla’s Eyes

When Priscilla looks at me

     From her wondrous eyes of blue,

Many are the thoughts I think,

     Many are the things I view.

I’m inclined to turn and flee

When Priscilla looks at me.

There is heaven in her glance,

     There is mischief in it, too;

There is mystery as well –

     Never were such eyes of blue!

When Priscilla looks at me,

I am hopelessly at sea.

Now I think she loves me well,

     Then I think she scorns me too;

Man was never so in doubt

     ‘Neath a pair of eyes so blue.

When Priscilla looks at me

I’m in joyous misery.

She invites me with a glance,

     Next she turns me into clay;

I am tortured by her words,

     Yet I cannot keep away.

Yea, more downcast would I be

Did she never look at me!

July 9, ‘12