Her glossy hair was clustered o’er a brow
Bright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth;
Her eyebrow’s shape was like the aërial bow,
Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth,
Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow,
As if her veins ran lightning; she, in sooth,
Possessed an air and grace by no means common:
Her stature tall—I hate a dumpy woman.