Classic Poem

Her hair is as a floating fire,
The glory of the world's desire

Her visage sweet yet gaunt and free
Elvish and broken startlingly

Her garb is green and climbs and clings
Her arm is weighted of strange rings.

Her eyes are brown and dreamy, mild
Making the elfin to a child.

Childish she is, and quick and hot
Her heart is sealed: we know her not.