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If hers are eyes dark
They are not so by design
But by love of night
Though moon be silent
The stars may ever shine,
 
And if her lips
Be lips not to be kissed
It is only for her smile’s sake
And her laughter to wake
And such treasures ought
Not be missed;
 
If she is not beautiful
Or if her beauty seems odd
It’s most likely a chance
We each have so little glance
At the impossibly vast
Handiwork of God.