Part 2 — "YES"
Reading edition
They stood above the world, In a world apart; And she dropped her happy eyes, And stilled the throbbing pulses Of her happy heart. And the moonlight fell above her, Her secret to discover; And the moonbeams kissed her hair, As though no human lovers Had laid his kisses there.
"Look up, brown eyes," he said, "And answer mine; Lift up those silken fringes That hide a happy light Almost divine." The jealous moonlight drifted To the finger half-uplifted, Where shone the opal ring— Where the colors danced and shifted On the pretty, changeful thing.
Just the old, old story Of light and shade, Love like the opal tender, Like it may be to vary— May be to fade. Just the old tender story, Just a glimpse of morning glory In an earthly Paradise, With shadowy reflections In a pair of sweet brown eyes.
Brown eyes a man might well Be proud to win! Open to hold his image, Shut under silken lashes, Only to shut him in. O glad eyes, look together, For life's dark, stormy weather Grows to a fairer thing When young eyes look upon it Through a slender wedding ring.
Richard Doddridge Blackmore [1825-1900]