Ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize.
Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.
Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.
Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half
So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.
Still paying, still to owe. Eternal woe!