Madonna Mia

A LILY-GIRL, not made for this world's pain

With brown, soft hair close braided by her ears

And longing eyes half veiled by slumberous tears

Like bluest water seen through mists of rain:

Pale cheeks whereon no love hath left its stain

Red underlip drawn in for fear of love

And white throat, whiter than the silvered dove

Through whose wan marble creeps one purple vein.