Thy beauty, thine shape art within mine mind
Slight statur’d and regal in promenade,
Rising above that known to humankind
Beyond the heav’ns own azure esplanade;
For in such height, the star still shines at morn
Thus arousing the eagle to take flight;
Till mist hath shaped, le grand jeté tis born
And thee, thine outstretched wingspan lift in might.
That full extension could ne’er be so bold,
Nor lead to stories so lore’s love remain;
Whereas did generations speak of old,
To give thee acclaim, such beauty sustain: