How sweet, when crimson colours dart
       &nbspAcross a breast of snow,
To see that you are in the heart
       &nbspThat beats and throbs below.

All Heaven is in a maiden's blush,
       &nbspIn which the soul doth speak,
That it was you who sent the flush
       &nbspInto the maiden's cheek.

Large steadfast eyes! eyes gently rolled
       &nbspIn shades of changing blue,
How sweet are they, if they behold
       &nbspNo dearer sight than you.

And, can a lip more richly glow,
       &nbspOr be more fair than this?
The world will surely answer, No!
       &nbspI, Sappho, answer, Yes!

Then grant one smile, tho' it should mean
       &nbspA thing of doubtful birth;
That I may say these eyes have seen
       &nbspThe fairest face on earth!