Juliet
If a maiden
Owned such a silver-lettered name as this,
She should be lovely as a summer's eve,
All sun and softness; if she spake, her words
Should fall like lute-tones on the eager ear,
Till silence should be sorrow, and her voice
The spell to make it joy; her lighted eye
Should beam only with love; there on his throne
Love like a king should reign; her eloquent lips
Should whisper only love, and part asunder
Only to meet in kisses; if the wind
Startled her silky tresses from the neck
Where they slept lovingly, it should but be
To make them cling more lovingly and close;
And if she smiled, her smile should be a heaven
So bright, so witching-wonderful, that men
Should leave their hopes and fears, their joys and sorrows
To look and long, and live and die for it.
And if she loved, oh! it should be so truly,
So deeply, so soul-earnestly! as if
A thousand hearts had lent their love to her,
And poured the full tide of their fond affections
Into her bursting bosom.
Sir Edwin Arnold, Poems (1853)