I think and think: yet still I fail — br Why must this lady wear a veil? br Why thus elect to mask her face br Beneath that dainty web of lace? br The tip of a small nose I see, br And two red lips, set curiously br Like twin-born berries on one stem, br And yet, she has netted even them. br Her eyes, 'tis plain, survey with ease br Whate'er to glance upon they please. br Yet, whether hazel, gray, or blue, br Or that even lovelier lilac hue, br I cannot guess: why — why deny br Such beauty to the passer-by? br Out of a bush a nightingale br May expound his song; from 'neath that veil br A happy mouth no doubt can make br English sound sweeter for its sake.