Beautiful girl, in thine undress
So thou dost unto me appear
Magnificent, but newly formed
Those breasts that never suckle gave--
It is a pleasure having near
Thy beauty, being by it warmed
Not merely in my heart, no slave
But postulant of thy caress.
Thine opulence seems more, not less,
For all thy youth, as though each year
Saw woman’s beauty merely harmed
As is the norm—they who deprave
By false conceits and lazy drear--
Whilst thou, though it could not be farmed
Beauty displayest as endear
That seems eternal loveliness.