To look glad-eyed on the Fairest, on the Star of Burgundy.
Now forth of the doors the Loveliest came, as the morning-red
From lowering clouds forth breaketh;—lo, how his heart-ache fled,
His, who in his soul had shrined her through all that weary tide!
For he saw that glory of women stand there in her beauty’s pride.
Flashed many a priceless gemstone from the folds of her attire,
And the roses flushed through the lilies, a snare of hearts’ desire.
Howsoe’er ’gainst the spell of her beauty one strove, he needs must own
That nothing so passing lovely in the wide world yet had he known.
As the full moon in her glory swims on before the stars,