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VII.
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VII.

Her eyes were dazzling softly bright,
Beneath her eyelids' solemn light,
So that her deep, expressive mind
Kept half her spirit's hues behind,
In that fond spark that lurked below,
Which made her very beauty glow,
Whose virgin meekness gave her eyes
The modest hue of twilight skies;

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For roses that are wet with dew,
Shine brightest under heaven of blue,
As beauty in her early years
Looks brightest when beheld in tears.
Her polished brow, above her eyes,
Her spirit's bright melodious sphere,
Above her purple orbits' roll,
Was brighter far than pearly skies,
In summer, when the sun doth rise
As cloudless and as clear away
As ever shone the brightest day;
And when her flashing spirit stole
From out her cloudy fringe above,
And told how eloquent was love—
It gave her such divine delight
That thought was drowned beneath the light.