Her ringlets glistened like the gold of morn,
And framed an oval outline statue fair,
Save where a shell-blush lingered for awhile,
Sending its ripples to the wavy hair.
Upon her features grace had shed its charm,
And in her smile sweetness to naught gave way;
'Twas like a streak of sunshine thrown across
The motionless repose of early day.
No sorrow rested on the calm, pure brow,
But thought held undisputed empire there.
Eyes like the dusky blue of evening skies,
Gazed in a dream or in a quiet prayer;
And through her aspect something noble shone,
That proved the soul to charity had grown.