Thou wert lovely to my sight,
 When in yonder dell I found thee
In thy radiant beauty bright,
 Though a desert spread around thee;
Like the heath-bell's purple flower,
Shrinking from a dewy shower.

Thou art rich in beauty yet,
 Fair as when at first I loved thee;
All the snares that could beset,
 Rank and splendour, since have proved thee;
Change thy fortune as it will,
Thou art fair and faultless still.