There's Not a Look of Those Dear Eyes

There's not a look of those dear eyes
That I shall e'er forget!
And, more than all my days, I prize
The day when first we met.

There's not a tone of that soft voice
But I shall ever hear,
Until it shall again rejoice
My fond, attentive ear.

There's not a wish you e'er express'd
But I would fain fulfil;
Nor can this anxious bosom rest
Till I've obey'd your will.

There's not a foe you've ever known,
But has my anger fired;
There's not a friend you've joy'd to own,
But, fondly, I've admired.

If signs like these true love reveal,
You mine distinctly see;
But dare I hope that you can feel
A flame like this for me?