 | Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights |  |
ALMA.
Blacker than the Blackbird's bill,
Was her raven hair;
Whiter than snow upon Ida's Hill,
Was her forehead fair:
Like Ivory of Corinth her milk-white hand,
Her lips were like Rubies from Samarcand.
Was her raven hair;
Whiter than snow upon Ida's Hill,
Was her forehead fair:
Like Ivory of Corinth her milk-white hand,
Her lips were like Rubies from Samarcand.
Softer than the April skies,
When the sun goes down,
Suffused with the sunset's dyes,
Were her eyes of brown;
Like the Lioness', lazy, their hazle hue,
Or the Autumn leaf in the morning dew.
When the sun goes down,
Suffused with the sunset's dyes,
Were her eyes of brown;
Like the Lioness', lazy, their hazle hue,
Or the Autumn leaf in the morning dew.
Fairer than the full-orbed Moon,
Star-crowned, at even,
Sitting, in her highest Noon,
On the Hills of Heaven;
Melting my soul with her smiles of love,
Like the Moon melts the night in the Heavens above.
Star-crowned, at even,
Sitting, in her highest Noon,
On the Hills of Heaven;
Melting my soul with her smiles of love,
Like the Moon melts the night in the Heavens above.
78
Whiter than the milk-white Swan
On some crystal stream;
Like the full blanc Moon at dawn
By the Sun's tinct changed to cream;
As wise as the Serpent—as meek as the Dove—
And, though living on earth, seemed in Heaven above.
On some crystal stream;
Like the full blanc Moon at dawn
By the Sun's tinct changed to cream;
As wise as the Serpent—as meek as the Dove—
And, though living on earth, seemed in Heaven above.
| Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights | |