Incognita

"My loved one has no rosy cheek
That I descry.
Her mien is rightly rarely meek
I certify.
Yet seeing her, I see with inward eye
The classic Greek,
A Mediterranean sky,
And breathless voices hear, in tongues antique.

My loved one springs from English ground
No one denies.
Yet does her rich dark hair expound
And brow devise
Two riddles: why she seems to be, and gowned,
In Southern guise
As from Knossos bound:
And why Granada gave to her, her eyes."