Mysterious Benedetta! who <br />That Reynolds or that Romney drew <br />Was ever half so fair as you, <br />Or is so well forgot? <br />These eyes of melancholy brown, <br />These woven locks, a shadowy crown, <br />Must surely have bewitched the town; <br />Yet you're remembered not. <br /> <br />Through all that prattle of your age, <br />Through lore of fribble and of sage <br />I've read, and chiefly Walpole's page, <br />Wherein are beauties famous; <br />I've haunted ball, and rout, and sale; <br />I've heard of Devonshire and Thrale, <br />And all the Gunnings' wondrous tale, <br />But nothing of Miss Ramus. <br /> <br />And yet on many a lattice pane <br />'Fair Benedetta,' scrawled in vain <br />By lovers' diamonds, must remain <br />To tell us you were cruel. <br />But who, of all that sighed and swore - <br />Wits, poets, courtiers by the score - <br />Did win and on his bosom wore <br />This hard and lovely jewel? <br /> <br />Why, dilettante records say <br />An Alderman, who came that way, <br />Woo'd you and made you Lady Day; <br />You crowned his civic flame. <br />It suits a melancholy song <br />To think your heart had suffered wrong, <br />And that you lived not very long <br />To be a City dame! <br /> <br />Perchance you were a Mourning Bride, <br />And conscious of a heart that died <br />With one who fell by Rodney's side <br />In blood-stained Spanish bays. <br />Perchance 'twas no such thing, and you <br />Dwelt happy with your knight and true, <br />And, like Aurora, watched a crew <br />Of rosy little Days! <br /> <br />Oh, lovely face and innocent! <br />Whatever way your fortunes went, <br />And if to earth your life was lent <br />For little space or long, <br />In your kind eyes we seem to see <br />What Woman at her best may be, <br />And offer to your memory <br />An unavailing song!<br /><br />Andrew Lang<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/benedetta-ramus/
