lord byron

61

Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow

Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth;

Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow,

Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth,

Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow,

As if her veins ran lightning; she, in sooth,

Possess'd an air and grace by no means common:

Her stature tall - I hate a dumpy woman.

71

Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind,

And tremulously gentle her small hand

Withdrew itself from his, but left behind

A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland

And slight, so very slight, to that the mind

'Twas but a doubt; but ne'er magician's wand

Wrought change with all Armida's fairy art

Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart.