Charles Villiers Stanford
2 voix · Voice, Piano
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I love my lady's eyes Above the beauties rare She most is wont to prize, Above her sunny hair, And all that face to face her glass repeats of grace. For those are still the same To her and all that see: but oh! her eyes will flame when they do look on me: And so a bove the rest I love her eyes the best. Now say, say, o say! saith the music who likes my song? I knew you by your eyes, That rest on nothing long, And have forgot surprise; And stray, stray, oh stray! saith the music! As mine will stray, the while my love's away.
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