ON SEEING HER WITH A WHITE VEIL AND A RICH GIRDLE.

Put off the vestal Veil, nor, oh!

Let weeping angels View it;

Your cheeks belie its virgin snow.

And blush repenting through it.

Put off the fatal zone you wear;

The shining pearls around it

Are tears, that fell from Virtue there,

The hour when Love unbound it.

The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes · 第 216 / 1302 题