Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
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Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear,
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.

Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.

Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.

And her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.

And her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.

Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
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Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.

He had a face like a benediction (blessing).

He had a face like a benediction (blessing).

With faces like dead lovers who died true.

With faces like dead lovers who died true.

Yet even her tyranny had such a grace,
The women pardoned all, except her face.

Yet even her tyranny had such a grace,
The women pardoned all, except her face.

The face the index of a feeling mind.

The face the index of a feeling mind.

These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.

These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.