Shall I disclose my mind
With these lines be sent unto thee
And unto thy passive eloquence

How lustrous thou art
That may the angels of Heaven sin
And the Goddesses of myth
With envy

For thy innocent complexion
More bright and radiant
Than the paleness of morning skies
And the meager sun
And dull crystals of night

Thou art defiant to the lights of world
When thy moral'd hues emitted—

What flawed and honest fairness
Strained not by the fires of mortal eyes
Thou hast none of ornament
Nor hast the looms of gaud

Nor thou wilt decline by eternal times
And not will thy ethereal color end
For death is nulled when thou shinest

But I, thou wilt not see
For what a dimm'd shadow
I am before thee

O please, wilt thou?