Fair maid, had I not heard thy baby cries,
Nor seen thy girlish, sweet vicissitude,
Thy mazy motions, striving to elude,
Yet wooing still a parents watchful eyes,
Thy humours, many as the opal’s dyes, 5
And lovely all;—methinks thy scornful mood,
And bearing high of stately womanhood,—
Thy brow, where Beauty sits to tyrannize
O’er humble love, had made me sadly fear thee;
For never sure was seen a royal bride, 10