Two ears, of the tiniest, daintiest size,
Are kissed by the breezes unbidden.
And right to the north of each exquisite cheek
Lie her eyes, of a brilliancy tender.
Their color I know not, but in them I seek
Some sign of approaching surrender.
Due north of the dimple that hides in her chin,
Two lips conceal music behind them;
And when a smile plays on them, Cupids begin
To break from the bonds that confine them.