She hath no beauty in her face
  Unless the chastened sweetness there,
And meek long-suffering, yield a grace
  To make her mournful features fair:—

Shunned by the gay, the proud, the young,
  She roams through dim, unsheltered ways;
Nor lover’s vow, nor flatterer’s tongue
  Brings music to her sombre days:—

At best her skies...