Her face heaving of beauty

Fair and fair she looks,

Such of a sugar plum

Calling men’s eyes her way;

Her beauty of a goddess,

Missus of beauteous grace,

Of smiles piercing dark

And pure as the virgin moon.


What awe in her looks?

Seems of sober reflection

But beauty not tears

Trickles down her dimpled cheek;

And O! A pity I can’t…

Write much of her all in one sonnet.