"Oh that face" I say, staring longingly at you. All that beauty, must be a mark of grace.
"Oh that face" I think of it one last time before bed and sevenfold-- daily.
"Oh that face", the one that can not be perfectly captured by light or by pen and ink, nor any words can fully render your splender
The birds writh in jealousy over your sound, and the doe is put to shame by your beauty, all of nature in the magnitude of it's fertility can not replicate your form. You were grafted by God's own hands, fashioned like a mirror of his grace, one that reflects the light of the sun through your eyes and does not darken, like a kindled flame that not even water can blot out. Out of your mouth comes an abundance of riches, gifts of wisdom and great joy, your presence is a blessing to all who recieve you, your friends uplift you with their words and their thoughts, those who opress you condemn themselves with their own thinking, for God is with you in the forest of this world.