Her hair is a sea of golden waves
Love’s beauteous temple wall that laves,
Rippling o’er two rosy shells
Wherein the soul of music dwells,
To break in hyacinthine curl
Caressing the base of purest pearl.
Her eyes, twin mountain pools that lie
Reflecting back the summer sky,
A fringe of graceful poplars there
Sway softly in the amorous air.