Whether thy locks in natural beauty stray Clustering like woodbind wild, or haply bound Like ivy wreath thy polished brows around; Whether within thine eyes' blue mirror play Mirth's arrowy beams or love's more softened ray; Whether to the gay viol's pleasant sound Thou minglest in the dance's airy round, Thy light feet twinkling like the darts of day; Or whether over the graceful harp thy frame, More graceful yet, with eyes up-raised thou bendest, And with its tones thy own, far sweeter, blendest; Still thou art loveliest, varying, yet the same, Still over my soul thine absolute sway extendest, And from all other loves thy heart defendest.