Chapter 770 of 1964 · 61 words · ~1 min read

XCVII.

Her presence was as lofty as her state; Her beauty of that overpowering kind, Whose force Description only would abate: I'd rather leave it much to your own mind, Than lessen it by what I could relate Of forms and features; it would strike you blind Could I do justice to the full detail; So, luckily for both, my phrases fail.