216 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
TOUT ENTIÈRE 
 
THE Devil is my lofty vault 
 This morning came to talk with me. 
 And (ever trying to find fault) 
Said “ I should like to know, pardie !   
 
“ Of all the beauties that compose 
 The enchantment of her darling breath, 
The black seductions and the rose 
 Wherewith her body glittereth, 
 
“ Which is the sweetest ? ”  O my soul !   
 Thus didst thou answer the Accurst :   
“ In her, since all’s divine control, 
 There cannot be or last or first. 
 
“ Since all transports me, how shall I 
 Aught of one thing affirm aright ?   
She dazzles like the morning sky 
 And soothes my spirit like the night. 
 
“ Too exquisite the music is 
 That all her lovely shape affords 
For impotent analysis 
 To mark how every bar accords.