Upon my visiting a steep rocky hill,
I saw her- strange, candid and very simple;
Falling apart from the lip-stick beauty;
From insane odors; from the tog’s divinity –
A natural doll, she’s a spirited jill.
The rustic cast was all that she did fill;
An unlettered, unmixed, artless, born
That had no ‘traction; nor a tainted horn.
Upon my meeting over a cross
I found her- straight, opined and a weary litigant’s tosh-
A lettered artless, hard-gained face.
Viewers opined, “Unimpressive, seems to be lifeless”.
On another meeting I saw a frilly girl-
The tainted beauty made me her pal.
Upon my walking by a morning bell,
I got her- wrapped in cloths, both white and dull-
Lifeless, burnt; no trace of face,
That she had her grace, but her desire pressed.
Upon my club, I deemed such a thing;
But hailed I her and set me a king
To uphold the pride; to clinch the idiots’ grace;
And killed my weapon after feasting my lusty face.
Upon my setting sun over the plain rocky dune
I found her- sad, old, weak- though the vim had gone,
From a distance shadow, I saw my dame’s daughter
Facing the same fate, done to mother.
And thought; and got her mind that lost her cess,
The desire she had in her younger face;
That upon my bed, I wished a face.
That upon my arm, I wished a shape.
That upon my heart, I desired a role-
That she did fail; and had her bale
From this tainted world; this synthetic hell.
But upon her heart those desires sail-
With less music, but with a hopeful tune;
She’s on her way to make a sky of her own.