Paint me a picture where the golden hair, Like sunlight, falls around the chiselled face Of Grecian imaging;--limn me the grace Of spiritual beauty, j**el rare, In features human yet divinely fair. Let, through the dark-blue splendour of the eye, Ethereal Hope shine star-like with chaste Love, And on the brow a wisdom from above, And on the lip a happy secret lie, Fraught with the spirit's sweetest sorcery; Suffuse her face with Music, and the charm-- The animated glow of lofty Thought; Let Cynthia's mien, with stately mildness fraught And queenly grace, adorn th' ideal form; And let her stand on some green isle of bliss, Where seraphs stoop to woo her witching kiss.