A Perfect Woman

Author: William Wordsworth

She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A Lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fare;
Like Twilight's, too her Dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-Time and the Cheerful Dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.

I saw her upon nearer view;
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her Household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For Human Nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple Wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.

And now I see with eye serene
The very Heart of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveler between life and death;
The Reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill
A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warm, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and Bright
With something of angelic Light.