My poetry dares not hold

All the reasons I love you,

The project is much too bold

For a mortal to aspire to.

Though, for your love’s sake,

And my desire to admire

You justly, I shall undertake

To explain my love’s fire.

‘Tis not only your beauty,

Graceful gait, or raven hair,

Your comely smile, or witty

Conversation or face fair—

‘Tis all these, and how you love me

For all the world, and me, to see.