E VANGELINE ! Evangeline!
The dewy morn in June
That startled first those eyes of thine
From out their baby swoon,
Gave all the brightest summer shine
Beyond the light of gem or wine,
To make their radiant spheres combine
The sun and stars and moon.

'Tis thus thine eyes are always bright
With lustre liquid-deep,
And blended there appears the light
Of autumn eves that creep,
And summer noon, and winter night
And showery spring-time at its height,
To witch the dreams or wile the sight
As one may wake or sleep.

And love, ignoring tide and time,
Can reckon by thine eyes,
And call it morning's choicest prime
When their long lashes rise;
A noonday in the tropic clime
To feel them bend their light sublime,
And eve, while village vespers chime,
To see them grave and wise.