Portrait Of A Lady By Sir Thomas Lawrence

DY , thy lofty brow is fair,

Beauty's sign and seal are there;

And thy lip is like the

Closing round the bee's repose;

And thine eye is like a star,

But blue as the sapphires' are.

Beautiful patrician!

Wearest on thy stately

All that suits a noble race,

All of high-born maiden's grace,--Who is there could look on

And doubt thy nobility?

Round thee satin robe is flung,

Pearls upon thy neck are hung,

And upon thy arm of

Rubies like red sun-gifts glow;

Yet thou wearest pearl and

As thou hadst forgotten them.--'Tis a step, but made to treadO'er Persian web, or flower's head,--Soft hand that might only

In the broider'd silken glove,--Cheek unused to ruder

Than what hot-house rose might bear,--One whom nature only

To be queen of the tournament,--Courtly fete, and lighted hall,--Grace and ornament of all!