They stood there, gaping with insatiate eye,
No blush of shame, no touch of reverence nigh.
With brazen stares, they feasted on her grace,
While others bold did venture to her space,
With gilded gifts and words of honeyed art,
To win a favour from her gentle heart.
Yet, all in vain their hollow efforts proved,
For she, disdainful, from their gaze unmoved,
Did cling unto mine arm with fervent hold,
As if her very life thereon enrolled.
Ah, foolish men, whose sight, so dim and deep,
Knew not the truth her loyal heart did keep:
For she, long since, was spoken for, by me.