343
Tixall Poetry.
By each peachie-blossomed cheek,
And thy sattin skin, more sleek
And white than Floras whitest lillies,
Or the maiden daffodillies;
By that ivory ridge, thy nose;
By those double blanched rows
Of teeth, as in pure coral set,
So white, so smooth, so even met;
By those lips all dewed with bliss,
Made happy in each other's kiss;
By those silk tresses, soft as down
Of tender cygnets newly blown;
By that silver stately neck
Which those curls do grace and deck;
By each alabaster hand,
From which thy taper fingers stand;
By those pretty nimble feet,
Wont in skilful steps to meet;
By the neat fabric of the whole,
Fair as the world, from either pole;
Whose each part is Paradise,
And Heaven both in and round it is;
By thyself, when thee I view,
I love thy all, and each part too.
And thy sattin skin, more sleek
And white than Floras whitest lillies,
Or the maiden daffodillies;
By that ivory ridge, thy nose;
By those double blanched rows
Of teeth, as in pure coral set,
So white, so smooth, so even met;
By those lips all dewed with bliss,
Made happy in each other's kiss;
By those silk tresses, soft as down
Of tender cygnets newly blown;
By that silver stately neck
Which those curls do grace and deck;
By each alabaster hand,
From which thy taper fingers stand;
By those pretty nimble feet,
Wont in skilful steps to meet;
By the neat fabric of the whole,
Fair as the world, from either pole;
Whose each part is Paradise,
And Heaven both in and round it is;
By thyself, when thee I view,
I love thy all, and each part too.
