To G. A. W

Nymph of the downward smile and sidelong glance,

      In what diviner moments of the day

      Art thou most lovely? When gone far astray

Into the labyrinths of sweet utterance?

Or when serenely wand'ring in a trance

      Of sober thought? Or when starting away,

      With careless robe, to meet the morning ray,

Thou spar'st the flowers in thy mazy dance?

Haply 't is when thy ruby lips part sweetly,

      And so remain, because thou listenest:

But thou to please wert nurtured so completely

      That I can never tell what mood is best.

I shall as soon pronounce which Grace more neatly

      Trips it before Apollo than the rest.