Thou hath darkest eyes taken from the night,
They drink me like moonless blue of July.
I fancy thee nigh, though it doth me fright:
‘tween the waves of nectarous coil I ply.
Thou art a tome, a dateless valentine––
Thou wilt and still be my hallowed prayer.
Prithee, wherefore hast thou to e’er shine?
As if thou know’st not thy luring charm rare.
But I would ne’ermore be so naive,
Lest to lose thee over such name unwise.
Thousands of worry wakeful nights unweave—
Foolish wit maketh a woe heart of demise.
So long as wheels spin and larks feathery,
I shalt e’er to grave my love from thee.

Photo Credits:  Jesse Orrico (jesseorrico.com)

Written by

Jaiqi Yin

Jiaqi Yin, senior, is a writer who loves nearly everything about humanities: literature, philosophy, history, and linguistics. She loves to read and collect weird tales and anecdotes—sometimes she even writes some of her own. Her favorite writing style is creative or narrative writing. She loves learning languages as well, because to her they are beautiful symbols, each with their own glamour and magical means to reveal a great mind.