Rosalind Arthur Sullivan

From the east to western Ind
No jewel is like Rosalind
Her worth, being mounted on the wind
Through all the world bears Rosalind
All the pictures fairest lined
Are but black to Rosalind
Let no fair be kept in mind
But the fair of Rosalind

Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devised
Of many faces, eyes and hearts
To have the touches dearest prized
Heaven would that she these gifts should have
And I to live and die her slave