She Walks in Bathers...

She walks in bathers, like a sight

of shroudless lines and starry eyes,

with all that's best of dark and bright

marred by the aspect of her size;

concepts ideal are put to flight;

all these her great display denies.

 

One ripple more, one ribbon less,

had brought the fair one to disgrace,

with waves of reddening distress

softly spreading o'er her face;

where thoughts so rarely e'er confess

that they are visiting this place.

 

And on that form, like some gross cow,

no clothes hide curves that nature lent;

the smiles that win, the tints that glow,

but waste their time. 'Tis evident

the mind is carnal, out to show

more flesh than Nature ever meant.