Golden hair, eyes blue as gold
That warm up winter night skies' cold,
That curving brow, soft on thy fore-
Head, speaking of wisdom and more
Than words those gorgeous lips can mouth,
Than anyone, North, East, West, South,
Them fingers, delicate and long,
Matched with thine arms, intricate, strong,
"Authority!" your shoulders cry,
Curiosity, your smile is wry,
Attention do your clothes demand,
No man like you will not command
An army of ten thousand hearts,
A palace, fifty horse-drawn carts:
A dream-come-true, that would be you,
If you were not a stone statue.
