"She's pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on." Sir John Suckling. She has a beauty of her own, A beauty of a paler tone Than English belles; Yet southern sun and southern air Have kissed her cheeks, until they wear The dainty tints that oft appear On rosy shells. Her frank, clear eyes bespeak a mind Old-world traditions fail to bind. She is not shy Or bold, but simply self-possessed; Her independence adds a zest Unto her speech, her piquant jest, Her quaint reply. O'er classic volumes she will pore With joy; and true scholastic lore Will often gain. In sports she bears away the bell, Nor, under music's siren spell, To dance divinely, flirt as well, Does she disdain.