The eyes, it's said, are windows of the soul; br and when I see your eyes so sparkling bright, br I see there beauty, truth and goodness; all br as one; the radiance of an inner light. br br But I who, standing, gaze though windows here: br what does my own soul see by its own light? br Is what is seen, seen through dark glass, or clear? br Is others' radiance that of my own sight? br br Strange fact: the outward play's less bright, less clear br than what I see to shine in others' eyes; br there seems less love in me, from me; less dear br the loving, than the love I see and prize! br br These windows teach clear lessons to my soul: br first see my own self's light, to see the whole.