White hands through her hair, like white doves going into the shadow of a wood
White like flame
White sails of sloops like specters
Whose bodies are as strong as alabaster
Whose hair was as gold raiment on a king
Whose laugh moves like a bat through silent haunted woods
Whose little eyes glow like the sparks of fire
Whose music like a robe of living light reclothed each new-born age
Windy speech which hits all around the mark like a drunken carpenter
Winged like an arrow to its mark