I heard her soft and silver voice Take part in songs of harmony, Well framed to gladden and rejoice; Whilst her ethereal melody Still kept my soul in wav'ring choice, 'Twixt smiles and tears of ecstasy.... I deem her fair,--yes, very fair! Yet some there are who pass her by, Unmoved by all the graces there. Her face doth raise no burning sigh, Nor hath her slender form the glare Which strikes and rivets every eye. Her grave, but large and lucid eye, Unites a boundless depth of feeling With Truth's own bright transparency, Her singleness of heart revealing; But still her spirit's history From light and curious gaze concealing.... [Illustration: _Florence Nightingale as a girl: about 1845_ _from a drawing by Miss Hilary Bonham Carter_] Mrs. Gaskell's picture in prose gives some lighter touches. "She is tall; very straight and willowy in figure; thick and shortish rich brown hair; very delicate complexion; grey eyes, which are generally pensive and drooping, but when they choose can be the merriest eyes I ever saw; and perfect teeth, making her smile the sweetest I ever saw. Put a long piece of soft net, and tie it round this beautifully shaped head, so as to form a soft white framework for the full oval of her face (for she had the toothache, and so wore this little piece of drapery), and dress her up in black silk, high up to the long, white round throat, and with a black shawl on, and you may get _near_ an idea of her perfect grace and lovely appearance. She is so like a saint."[26] She dressed becomingly; but had a saint's carelessness in such things, somewhat to her elder sister's despair. "_Make_ Flo wear her white silk frock to-night," she wrote on one occasion to her mother. Many years later, when stores and comforts were being sent out to the East under cover to the Lady-in-Chief, Lady Verney insinuated "one little gown for Flo," and who will not love her for it? "When in 1849 she started to winter in the East, her mother says"--I quote again from Mrs. Gaskell--"they equipped her _en princesse_, and when she came back she had little besides the clothes she had on; she had given away her linen, etc., right and left to those who wanted it." [26] From a letter to Catherine Winkworth, written in 1854; for other passages in the letter, see pp. 8, 41, 139. VI