Miriam

What better praise for all her ways Than that all days her ways illume? Such brightness as the maiden year Knows, when God’s kindness seems as near As flowers whose wisdom ’s but to bloom.

Hers the deep hair: a face more fair Than roses June sets blossoming: The sunshine of her gladness gleams In bloom-bright lips and cheeks, and dreams Upon her throat’s soft coloring.

Her voice is sweet as birds that greet With song the coming of the light: The serious happy gleam that lies In the dark lustre of her eyes Is as the starlight to the night.

Beyond the sea such girls as she It was whom Titian loved to paint, With calm Madonna eyes, and hair Rich auburn; robed in gold and vair, Fair as the vision of a saint.