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.