She walks in beauty, like the dawn
Of fleeting stars and breaking sun,
And all that’s sweet of clearest rays
Meets in the keenness of her gaze:
Thus heightened in that perfect one
Which I’m amazed to look upon.
One spark the less, one glint the more,
Could never change those eyes sincere,
Which framed in hair of golden store
Bequeaths a challenge far and near,
And answers it with frowning brows
On any man who halts or bows.
And on that forehead stamped with pride
The love of self is undenied,
Where independent “I” is queen,
Hard-judging what she’s heard and seen:
A mind at peace, yet passionate
To grasp the life that she can get!