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FOR her these lines are penned, whose luminous eyes,

Brightly expressive as the twins of Lœda,

Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies

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Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.

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Search narrowly this rhyme, which holds a treasure

Divine — a talisman — an amulet

That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure —

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The words — the letters themselves. Do not forget

The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!

And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

Which one might not undo without a sabre,

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If one could merely understand the plot.

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Enwritten upon this page whereon are peering

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Such eager eyes, there lies, I say, perdu

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A well-known name, oft uttered in the hearing

Of poets, by poets — as the name is a poet's, too.

Its letters, although naturally lying

Like the knight Pinto — Mendez Ferdinando —

Still form a synonym for Truth. — Cease trying!

You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.