Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems ::

4.

As easy 'twere the nymph to bind
As tell the charm the Lady bore;
True beauty never was defined—
And features painted to the mind
Are perfect only to the blind
Who never scan the image o'er.—
Oh! very beautiful was she,
A loveliness most rare to see.
Her eyes were like th' ethereal hue
From Chimborazo's skyward view,
When stars begin to tremble through,
And not a vapor dims the blue;—

And clustering curls of soft, blond hair,
Around her throat and shoulders flow
Like morning light on mountain snow,—
And face so delicately fair!
'Twas like a lily newly blown,
Or, like breathing Parian stone,
Softened by a heart within,
Sending love-light through the skin!
Ay, the soul's transparent vase
Seemed that pure, pale, loving face.

University of Virginia Library

4.