Here's Looking at You

There are people who shed slow, joyous tears

From the heart, which send a feeling through the veins

That no life is lost but that celled in fears.

There is a source of birth in the human pains

Of feeling music, seeing warmth, and pouring self from cup to cup;

Drinking down the stroke of reason in a talking hand,

Or the glint of dreams in two bashful eyes turned up

From a face too personal to stare into,

Because it is yours, my friend, and I love you.