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Whether thy locks in natural beauty stray
Clustering like woodbind wild, or haply bound
Like ivy wreath thy polished brows around;
Whether within thine eyes' blue mirror play
Mirth's arrowy beams or love's more softened ray;
Whether to the gay viol's pleasant sound
Thou minglest in the dance's airy round,
Thy light feet twinkling like the darts of day;
Or whether over the graceful harp thy frame,
More graceful yet, with eyes up-raised thou bendest,
And with its tones thy own, far sweeter, blendest;
Still thou art loveliest, varying, yet the same,
Still over my soul thine absolute sway extendest,
And from all other loves thy heart defendest.