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I LOVE you not for what you are,
But what you seem to be;
I love you not for what is hid,
But for the things I see.
I love you for your large gray eyes
With jetty fringe and long;
I love you for your pearly teeth,
Your voice like murmured song.
I love you for your naivete,
The timid, bashful blush
That seems to say what heart would hide
And maiden lips would hush.
I love you for the half-drawn sigh,
The downward modest glance,
The soft brown hair, the marble brow,
The graceful feet and dance.
I love you for the willow form
That seems to sway in tune
To the sweet vows you swore last night
By the pale crescent moon.
But crescent moons change once a month,
E'en angel tongues can scold,
And tender eyes grow red with tears,
And naivete grow bold.
And fairy feet can stamp with rage,
A marble brow can frown,
A dainty mouth grow obstinate,
And hair both false and brown.
And blushes can serve deep designs
As well as modest look,
And jetty fringe be tempting fires
That bait a cruel hook.
So as I love not that which is,
But only that which seems,
You ne'er can be a real love,
But only one in dreams.
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