A TANGLED sheen of sunlit hair;
A face most exquisitely fair;
A little ear of dainty mould,
That blushed as if some whisper told
A lover's secret; laughing eyes,
All joyous with a sweet surprise ;
And flushes playing on a cheek
More soft than peach, than plum more sleek;
Ripe lips that in their pouting sue,
And rival roses in their hue ;
A form that, neither short nor tall,
Is in its grace majestical, -
I see this, love this; that is all.
In vain for me to strive to paint
The spice of sinner with the saint,
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Appleton Chapel.