XCVII: I am of those eyes of thine enamoured--look…

I am of those eyes of thine enamoured--look thou upon me!
I am the Hindu slave of thy locks; but dispose not of me!

With this form, and these charms, that thou possessest,
It would be, indeed, wonderful, were any other born like thee.

In grace and loveliness, there is no one equal unto thee--
This is the pity, that thou art, wholly, pitiless and unkind.

Though I die of grief for thee, still thou turnest away from me:
What! is the love of thine heart turned so dark for me?

I will never abandon thy door, nor thy dwelling-place,
Though thou mayest, without fire, cruelly, me consume.

Shouldst thou inflict a thousand cruelties on me, imagine not,
That the love of my heart will, towards thee, ever be changed.

I am well off, sunk down contemptible, in the dust at thy door;
But not so elsewhere, though I should upon a throne recline.