A purer azure sparkled in his eye,
Than that of icy shoal in mountain found;
Whene'er he spoke, his voice was melody,
And sweeter far than instrumental sound.
O he was lovely! fair as purest snow,
Whose wreaths the tops of highest mountains crown;
His lips were radiant as the heav'nly bow;
His skin was softer than the softest down;
More sweet his breath than fragrant bloom, or rose,
Or gale that cross a flow'ry garden blows.