There stood she, even as a statue stands,
With head droop'd downward, and with clasped hands;
Such small white hands that match'd her ivory feet,
How may they bear that scorching fire to meet? (Letitia Elizabeth Landon)

There stood she, even as a statue stands, With head droop'd downward, and with clasped hands; Such small white hands that match'd her ivory feet, How may they bear that scorching fire to meet?

Letitia Elizabeth Landon

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