"She's pretty to walk with,
   And witty to talk with,
   And pleasant, too, to think on."
   Sir John Suckling.

She has a beauty of her own,
A beauty of a paler tone
   Than English belles;
Yet southern sun and southern air
Have kissed her cheeks, until they wear
The dainty tints that oft appear
   On rosy shells.

Her frank, clear eyes bespeak a mind
Old-world traditions fail to bind.
   She is not shy
Or bold, but simply self-possessed;
Her independence adds a zest
Unto her speech, her piquant jest,
   Her quaint reply.

O'er classic volumes she will pore
With joy; and true scholastic lore
   Will often gain.
In sports she bears away the bell,
Nor, under music's siren spell,
To dance divinely, flirt as well,
   Does she disdain.