Classic Poem

I

When I go
From my place
At your feet,
Sweet,
All I know
Of your face
I recall, —
All;
Being by
(In the net)
I forget.
Why?

II

Being by,
I but hear
What you say, —
Yea,
Naught am I
But an ear
To the word
Heard;
Then I go
And the grace
Of your face
Know.