I saw her first at Rome. His Holiness
Gave a reception; I with some of the guests
Had strayed to view the galleries: suddenly
Out of a group before me—as if a Grace,
That lived in Rafael’s brain to mock his hand,
Had stepped alive amongst us to rebuke
Our admiration of the fresco-stuff—
She turned and faced me.
Quick as I tell, I read my fate: I knew
What I was born for. Love’s first ecstasy