Gertrude

When first I gazed on Gertrude’s face, Beheld her loveliness and grace; Her brave gray eyes, her raven hair, Her ways, more winsome than the spring’s; Her smile, like some sweet flower, that flings Its fragrance on the summer air; And when, like some wild-bird that sings, I heard her voice,--I did declare,-- And still declare!--there is no one, No girl beneath the moon or sun, So beautiful to look upon! And to my heart, as I know well, Nothing seems more desirable,-- Not Ophir gold, nor Orient pearls-- Than seems this jewel-girl of girls.