Will you believe my words? She was divine—

A beauty true, beyond all earth’s compare;

Her simple gaze could haunt the bounds of time

And leave a swain in endless sweet despair.

Yet some would doubt that she was pure of heart,

Or say her virtue bore some wanton stain,

That all her kindness merely played a part—

As some skilled actress miming love’s domain.

Pure truth and beauty ever rouse such spite

Since jealousy still haunts the human mind;

And so by word or deed, they live to blight,

To tarnish any worth that they might find.

Here, by my honor, I stand forth to state—

No fairer angel passed through Heaven’s gate.