Dimpling red lips at me pouting,

Dimpling shoulders at me flouting;

’Prisoned in those crystal eyes

Purity forever lies;

Little, wild and wilful fiction,

Teasing, torturing contradiction;

With kind acts and sweet words she

Aids and comforts poverty;

Quick she puts her cuirass on,

Stabs with laughter, stings with scorn;

No! Then to my arms she flies,

Filling me with glad surprise;