Oh, the beautiful girl ...
... Her flesh was the soft seraphic screen
Of a soul that is meant ...
To just see earth, and hardly be seen,
And blossom in heaven instead.
Yet earth saw one thing, one how fair?
One grace that grew to its full ...
... She had her great gold hair.

Hair, such a wonder of flix and floss,
Freshness and fragrance--floods of it, too!
Gold, did I say? Nay, gold's mere dross!

_Gold Hair._


She had
A heart--how shall I say?--too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed: she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
* * * * *
'Twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her,--all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush at least ...
... Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling?