⁠Love’s blind, they say,
⁠O never, nay;
⁠Can words Love’s grace impart?
⁠The fancy weak,
⁠The tongue may speak,
⁠But eyes alone the heart.
In one soft look what language lies!
O, yes, believe me, Love has eyes.

⁠Love’s wing’d they cry—
⁠O, never I
⁠On pinions love to soar;
⁠Deceivers rove,
⁠But never love,
⁠Attach’d he moves no more:
Can he have wings who never flies?
And yes, believe me, Love has eyes.