Classic Poem

PART II.

Not all the train of threescore queens,
And fourscore beauteous concubines,
Innumerable virgins too,
May e'er compare, my love, with you.
My only dove, my spotless one
Transcends 'em all herself alone;
The only one her mother bare,
Her mother's tender joy and care.
The virgins saw her, and confest
None with such beauty e'er was blest:
The queens and concubines admir'd,
And in her praises all conspir'd.

The Daughters of Jerusalem .

Who's this so cheerful and so bright,
Gay as the rising morning light?
Ne'er did the moon so fair appear;
Nor is the sun more bright and clear.
Among her milder graces now
An awful dread reigns on her brow;
Like armies that for war prepare,
And to the field their ensigns bear.