XXI.

Her mobile face with play of sweetest smiles Gives forth her innocent thoughts and nought conceals: An aspect changeful still that ne’er beguiles, For every change a beauty new reveals, Its form vibrating as her bosom feels. As some fair lake reflects each passing cloud, Each sun-bright ray that o’er its bosom steals, So were her looks with mirror truth endowed, Nor could she, if she would, emotion’s play enshroud.