"Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness in her person shined So clear as in no face with more delight. But O! as to embrace me she inclined I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night"
- John Milton
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Thy curve hath taught the rosewood how to sing and my fingers long roughened by cedar grow gentle upon thy hips returning unto the edge of thy ebony Through forty harvests rain hath polished snow hath kept the sun made sweet the grain Lo, the wood thrush calleth from the bough where once this timber drank the morning Thrice I say unto thee I love thee— And another ring God closeth in the heartwood =======
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