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Poem

Behold, I saw her auburn hair
The shadows could not murmur there
And like a touch of candle light
It burned against an ivory white;
Her skin was pale and like the moon
Which hangs, an orb in phantom air,
Men cannot touch but only swoon
Like stars do gaze and eyes despair;
But she, O! she was nature’s best
No Grecian Urn Nor Nymphan face protest.

Behold, I saw her sultry smile
Like sunsets sometimes smile
No passion sweeter than is brief
Like stardrops simmer in the sea;
It lingered for a longer while
Like heaven on horizon’s mile
When all the world is turned and there
Comes twilight, furtive, bare;
But she, O! she can none compare
Not twilight, nor its outer airs.

Behold, I saw her candid eyes
Such eyes no more than stars can lie
No dismal strains of slivered light
Her glance then sets the world aright;
As thus the world on course is turned
Each star in destiny thusly burned
Till lastly gleaming nova bright
Like novas are those candid eyes;
Thus she, O! she has eyes like stars
Their gleams now haunt my captive heart.

Behold! I saw her furtive lips
If lips are furtive lest when kissed
But kisses cannot measure there
Nor time immortal beauty there;
Like ribbons in the blushing sun
Or roses when the dawn is done
When comes the pink of daylight hours
And hearts are captive to her powers
Thus she, O! she so gently makes
With lips more subtle graceful ways.

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