So backward flew with rapid speed.

The floor of polished oak was made,

O'er which a carpet rich was laid.

The furniture was carved antique;

And had it been allowed to speak,

Might tales of stirring int'rest tell

Of what in ancient times befell:

But that which most attracted me

Seemed younger far than all to be,

The portrait of a lady fair

As ever breathed the vital air,

Or drove a lover to despair,

Or claimed in any mischief share;—

As beautiful a face was there

As poet's quill did e'er compare[Pg 11]

[Pg 11]

With aught above the earth that grows;

Than even winter's drifting snows,

Her neck was white, while dark her eyes

As night when moonbeams shun the skies;

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