  In dainty hoop, with flowers all-richly dight, With beauty-patches on her painted face, With pointed shoes all hung about with lace, With tow’ring curls, and, wasp-like, fasten’d tight,— Thus was the spurious muse equipp’d that night When first she offer’d thee her fond embrace; But thou eludedst her and leftst the place, Led by a mystic impulse from her sight: Where, like a lovely marble image shrin’d, Lay a fair maid, in magic slumber sunk; But soon the spell was loosed,—when kiss’d by thee, With smiles the lawful muse of Germany Awoke, and sank within thine arms, love-drunk. |
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