Listening, She listened like a cushat dove

She listened like a cushat dove
That listens to its mate alone:
She listened like a cushat dove
  That loves but only one.

Not fair as men would reckon fair,
Nor noble as they count the line:
Only as graceful as a bough,
  And tendrils of the vine:

Only as noble as sweet Eve
  Your ancestress and mine.

And downcast were her dovelike eyes
And downcast was her tender cheek;
Her pulses fluttered like a dove
  To hear him speak.