With brunettes I now have finish’d,
And this year am once more fond
Of the eyes whose colour blue is,
Of the hair whose colour’s blond.
Mild the blond one, whom I love now,
And in meekness quite a gem!
She would be some blest saint’s image,
Held her hand a lily stem.
Slender limbs of wondrous beauty,
Little flesh, much sympathy;
All her soul is glowing but for
Faith and hope and charity.
She maintains she understands not
German,—but it can’t be so;
Hast ne’er read the heavenly poem
Klopstock wrote some time ago?