No Match For It Is To Be Found
No match for it is to be found,
No flaw in it, tis fully sound.
It thaws the coldest hearts to dew,
Brilliant brightness, shining through,
Like summer rain, the locks unfold,
Oer eyes bewitching to behold,
That crown the ruby red-rose lips,
Whose smile would draw Achilles’s ships.
There is no man who as yet lives,
That can bestow as nature gives.
Though none merits such great treasure,
She was blessd in such great measure.
In all creation’s beauty,
Her’s best reflects Deity.
Oh pity us, such poor men,
Who see the Lady Arwen.