CLEMATIS 
Mental Beauty. 
“Young Emily has temples fair, 
Caressed by locks of dark brown hair. 
“A thousand sweet humanities 
Speak wisely from her hazel eyes. 
“Her speech is ignorant of command, 
And yet can lead you like a hand. 
“Her white teeth sparkle when the eclipse 
Is laughter-moved of her red lips. 
“ She moves—all grace—with gliding limbs, 
As a white-breasted cygnet swims. 
“In her sweet childhood Emily 
Was wild with natural gayety, 
A little creature, full of laughter. 
Who cast no thought before or after, 
And knew not custom or its chains. 
The dappled fawns upon the plains, 
The birds that love the upper sky. 
Lived not in lovelier liberty. 
“But with this natural merriment, 
Mind and the ripening years have blent 
A thoughtfulness—not melancholy— 
Which wins her life away from folly; 
Checking somewhat the natural gladness, 
But saved, by that it checks, from sadness— 
Like clouds athwart a May-morn sailing, 
Which take the golden light they’re veiling. 
“She loves her kind, and shuns no duty; 
Her virtues sanctify her beauty; 
And all who know her say that she 
Was born for man’s felicity— 
I know that she was born for mine. 
Dearer than any joy of wine, 
Or pomp, or gold, or man’s loud praise, 
Or purple power, art thou to me— 
Kind cheerer of my clouded ways_ 
Young vine upon a rugged tree!” 
