Sweet Fanny, though I know you not,
And I have never seen the splendor
That flashes from your hazel eyes
To make the souls of men surrender;
Though, when they ask me how you look,
I’m forced to say “I never met her,”
I hope you will not deem it wrong
If I address to you a letter.
Here in mine own secluded room,
Forgetful of life’s sober duty,