There
is something rare and enchanting
Surrounding a face in a veil;
And
we wonder as on it we linger
If aught it contains a strange tale.
At
first we fain would remove it,
And gaze on it open and fair;
But
were it not partially hidden
Our interest wouldn’t be there.
And
then in the whirl of life’s traffic,
A glance and the face is away;
And
tomorrow we meet with another,
E’en fairer than that of today.
Nov.
25, ‘92
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