The fine, fair cameo of her lovely face
Was like a perfect flower in tint and hue,
And from her being, breathed the nameless grace
Of sheltered woods and violets shy and blue.
She did not seem to know she was so fair;
Her tender cheek would flush with sweet surprise,
When, sometimes, we who loved her, praised her hair
Or prized the fawn-like beauty of her eyes.
Nor could we think too much of form or line,
Or dainty coloring. The radiant soul
That from those hazel eyes was wont to shine
Seemed to be one with God, and claimed the whole
Of Angel Sisterhood. Now, one of them,
We reach toward Heaven by her garment's hem!