Girlish bust, but womanly air;
Smooth, square forehead, with uprolled hair;
Lips that lover has never kissed;
Taper fingers and slender wrist;
Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade;
So they painted the little maid.
And the poet goes on:—
What if a hundred years ago
Those close-shut lips had answered no,
When forth the tremulous question came