Classic Poem

God being idle on a summer's day
Fashioned a woman arrogantly fair;
Subtle and soft, He made her seem to wear
The whole world's beauties to the world's dismay.
And, as He watched her body bend and sway,
He set the rose upon her lips to share
A milder breath than ever South-winds bear
From magic haunts to greet the languid May.

Thus He made thee, my love, with liberal care
So rich, so radiant, that from every pole
The angels came to worship and extol,
While He Himself could only sit and stare. . .
And, lost in wonder as He made thee there,
God in His negligence forgot the soul.