She sat as tender as the night,
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Next to me on the train,
And as the sun had risen light
T'was her reflection feign.
By the windows streaming quickly-
All the things that made thee-
Farmlands, streams, and mountains briskly,
From fog gave you to me.
By the valley's that adore you,
Through sweet scents of morning,
As the light shone of verder true,
'Tis your aspects awning.
Your eyes observed with grander fair,
Too much, too few, enough,
The envy of the world's stare,
But smiled on the ruff.
Your hair of gold did sway with zest,
Gave back the sun its sight,-
While by gentle heaving of your breast
Life moved, the day had fight.