THIS girl was sweeter than the song of swans, br And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns br Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls, br Outshone the light of Erythraean pearls; br The teeth of India that with polish glow, br The untouched lilies or the morning snow. br Her tresses did gold-dust outshine br And fair hair of women of the Rhine. br Compared to her the peacock seemed not fair, br The squirrel lively, or the phoenix rare; br Her on whose pyre the smoke still hovering waits; br Her whom the greedy and unequal fates br On the sixth dawning of her natal day, br My child-love and my playmate - snatcht away.