How joyfully does that sweet floral garland so well-wrought weave around her tresses fair each flower advancing boldly past its fellows to be the first to kiss her golden hair! Content the whole day through must be that dress that hugs her breast then as it fall spreads out that net of golden thread on both her cheeks that dares to touch her neck around about! Yet surely happier still that silken band gilded at the tips made with the single aim of pressing close the breast in its firm lace And the bold belt that fastens her slim waist seems to aver ‘I shall keep hold for ever’ Oh what would my own arms do in its place!