the devil up my attic stair
came tiptoeing a while ago
and, trying to catch me unaware,
said laughing,"i should like to know,
"of all her many charm, what springs
most often to your mind? of all the rose coloured and shadowy things
whereby her beauty may enthrall,

"which is the sweetest?"-- o, my soul,
you answered the abhorred guest:
her beauty is complete and whole.
no single part is loveliest.

"when she is near, i cannot say
what gives me such intense delight.
she dazzles like the break of day,
she comforts like the fall of night