Sweet, are her jade-green eyes that gleam and glance—
And give no hint of yester-tea-time’s flare-up
When stern mamma forbade her bind her hair up.
Jill’s hair! How beautiful it is; the tresses
Warm-golden, soft as cygnet’s earliest downing.
Jill’s foot! How slim the arch the flounce caresses.
Jill’s brow! How pure; how yet uncreased in frowning.
(My Muse! How easily the jade impresses
On this base coin a stamp of pseudo-Browning.)
Jill’s youth! Jill’s dreams! These luxuries that lap her!...