Excerpt from The Parlor Muse: A Selection of Vers De Soci t From Modern Poets Dark was her hair, her hand was white; Her voice was exquisitely tender Her eyes were full of liquid light; I never saw a waist so slender! Her every look, her every smile, Shot right and left a score of arrows; I thought 'twas Venus from her isle, And wondered where she'd left her sparrows.

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