Isole, A Portrait
by Richard Crawley
Her sleep was calm as summer night,
Her opening eyes like spring awaking;
Her smile as fleet as is the light
Of morning o'er the mountain breaking.
Her tears were those that April knows,
Her breath the airs that rise at even,
Her gaze the western star that glows
Beyond its sisters in the heaven.
Her spirit as the air was free,
Her bosom as the earth was tender,
Her humour various as the sea,
And men her slaves were to defend her.
Her hair was like the ruddy flame,
Her voice was as the silver water :
'Twas Nature to her cradle came,
And gave these gifts unto her daughter.