***I own none of this text, this belongs to John L. Foster and University of Texas Press.***

My love is one and only, without peer,
            lovely above all Egypt's lovely girls.
On the horizon of my seeing,
            see her, rising,
Glistening goddess of the sunrise star
            bright in the forehead of a lucky year.
So there she stands, epitome
            of shining, shedding light,
Her eyebrows, gleaming darkly, marking
            eyes which dance and wander.
Sweet are those lips, which chatter
            (but never a word too much),
And the line of the long neck lovely, dropping
            (since song's notes slide that way)
To young breasts firm in the bouncing light
            which shimmers that blueshadowed sidefall of hair.
And slim are those arms, overtoned with gold,
            those fingers which touch like a brush of lotus.
And (ah) how the curve of her back slips gently
            by a whisper of waist to god's plenty below.
(Such thighs as hers pass knowlegde
            of loveliness known in the old days.)
Dressed in the perfect flesh of woman
            (heart would run captive to such slim arms),
                    she ladies it over the earth,
Schooling the neck of each schoolboy male
            to swing on a swivel to see her move.
(He who could hold that body tight
            would know at last
                    perfection of delight —
Best of the bullyboys,
                    first among lovers.)
Look you, all men, at that golden going,
                    like Our Lady of Love,
                                    without peer.