I'LL gaze no more on her bewitching face,
Since ruin harbours there in every place ;
For my enchanted soul alike she drowns
With calms and tempests of her smiles and frowns.
I-ll love no more those cruel eyes of hers,
Which, pleased or anger-d, still are murderers :
For if she dart, like lightning, through the air
Her beams of wrath, she kills me with despair :
If she behold me with a pleasing eye,
I surfeit with excess of joy, and die.
Song. Murdering Beauty
Thomas Carew
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Poem topics: anger, despair, joy, soul, place, face, gaze, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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