In times to come inquiring minds may ask,

Who was this maiden that could hearts so move;

That poets in proud verse’s exalted task

Would cast in ink her virtues there to prove?

Was she indeed as stunning as was claimed,

That with her smile did leave each eye amazed?

Did she grace gilded ballrooms like a dream

And with her lilting songs lift hearts in praise?

I write this truth though lies may strike me blind:

No world has seen a lovelier more fair;

Never a purer soul has stood more grand,

Nor could a seraph here with her compare—

I swear that though you search till end of time,

No nobler vision shall your searching find.