Hero.

Claudio. Know you any Hero?     Hero. None my lord!                As You Like it.     Gentle and modest Hero! I can see     Her delicate figure, and her soft blue eye,     Like a warm vision - lovely as she stood,     Veiled in the presence of young Claudio.     Modesty bows her head, and that young heart     That would endure all suffering for the love     It hideth, is as tremulous as the leaf     Forsaken of the Summer. She hath flung     Her all upon the venture of her vow,     And in her trust leans meekly, like a flower     By the still river tempted from its stem,     And on its bosom floating.                              Once again     I see her, and she standeth in her pride,     With her soft eye enkindled, and her lip     Curled with its sweet resentment, like a line     Of lifeless coral. She hath heard the voice     That was her music utter it, and still     To her affection faithful, she hath turned     And questioned in her innocent unbelief,     "Is my lord well, that he should speak so wide?" -     How did they look upon that open brow,     And not read purity? Alas for truth!     It hath so many counterfeits. The words,     That to a child were written legibly,     Are by the wise mistaken, and when light     Hath made the brow transparent, and the face     Is like an angel's - virtue is so fair -     They read it like an over-blotted leaf,     And break the heart that wrote it.