Classic Poem

The hems and wristbands were bedight,
at the hands, at sides, at openings,
with white pearl, and none other gem;
and burnish'd white her vesture was;
but a wondrous pearl, without a flaw,
amid her breast was firmly set;
soul of man would surely fail
ere mortal mind might mete its worth.
No tongue might e'er avail, I trow,
that sight to tell in fitting word,
so fair was it, and clear, and pure,
that precious pearl, where it was dight.