The never failing index of the heart,
What strength, what beauty in thy every line,
What high-born thought, what thrilling passion speaks
In eye, in mouth, and in thy noble brow;
What envy for the rose is in thy blush,
What venom for the lily in thy skin.
O face, what greater rapture could man know
Than biding near her while my lady dreams,
And watch the play, the change of light and shade,
Upon her face, when life's full chord is struck
And flesh reveals the spirit that's within.
What strength, what beauty in thy every line,
What high-born thought, what thrilling passion speaks
In eye, in mouth, and in thy noble brow;
What envy for the rose is in thy blush,
What venom for the lily in thy skin.
O face, what greater rapture could man know
Than biding near her while my lady dreams,
And watch the play, the change of light and shade,
Upon her face, when life's full chord is struck
And flesh reveals the spirit that's within.
O form! that matches symmetry with grace,
And eloquence and brawn, with beauty too,
Where is the Venus, born of ancient art,
Or Diana, so strong and swift of foot,
In noble bust that can compare with thee?
How flows the rich profusion of thy hair
In glossy tresses down a lily neck,
How swells the contour of thy virgin breast
With all that is most noble in the heart,
What graceful curves thy sloping shoulders make,
And how above the rest, serene and full
Thy noble forehead speaks intelligence.
And eloquence and brawn, with beauty too,
Where is the Venus, born of ancient art,
Or Diana, so strong and swift of foot,
In noble bust that can compare with thee?
How flows the rich profusion of thy hair
In glossy tresses down a lily neck,
How swells the contour of thy virgin breast
With all that is most noble in the heart,
What graceful curves thy sloping shoulders make,
And how above the rest, serene and full
Thy noble forehead speaks intelligence.
O queen of beauty! regent of my heart!
I bring this poor portrayal of thy grace,
I bring this poor portrayal of thy grace,
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