Who can hold a candle to thee lady?
To ponder thee is beauty manifest:
Thy sinewed limbs climb to heights unshady,
And fortune’s pride hath held thee at her breast.
Oft the light within thee ignites true love,
And this sunrise in thine eyes kindles gold;
That worlds hold dear nature’s ebony dove,
Thy gifts now heroic stories retold.
For thy Olympic torch shall never die,
And fount o’erflow amid rose blossoms fair;
Ringed banner sparkling upon winds e’er high,
An heirloom o’er time that cannot compare:
So lived a maiden bright who fought to bear,
And walked faster, higher, stronger on air.