My spirit's day, my hope, my strength, mine all!
VI.
Breathe healthful zephyrs, airs of Paradise,
Breathe gently on that alabaster brow;
Shake the dark lashes of those violet eyes;
Flatter those lids that such high grace allow.
Those cheeks, pure lilies, capture with sweet stealth,
And warm with something of a rose-like glow;
Those tremulous smiles, costlier than miser's wealth,
Draw out; those magic tresses backward blow!