Classic Poem

Lady, the meshes of your coiling hair
Hide like a mask my lovely one.
And thro' that veil I guess at things more rare
Than Absalom, King David's son.

A flight of cuckoos bursting from a curl
Do sing in every plaited tress,
Whose silent tune sets many hearts a-whirl,
O'erborne with so much loveliness.

The drooping ringlets of your long bright hair
Across your eyes their shadows fling,
Those eyes that flash and glow like crystal there,
Or precious jewels in a ring.

Like some strange beauty from an unknown land
In borrowed gems you ne'er were dressed.
I see no golden bracelets on your hand,
A hundred rings upon your breast.

Round your smooth neck the wreathéd floods of gold
Coil from your brows above,
And all your breast with jewelled chains enfold,
A breast for men to love.