She who could have been a beauty was denied
By two hard horns that harshly framed her face.
Her mass of tangled hair did fail to hide
Their tips, a cold reminder of her long-shunned race.
Nor could she escape ten thousand eyes
That followed every footstep she dared take.
And if she be an heifer, well-disguised
She still cannot escape Her searching gaze.
But more than all, her captor well-despised,
Try as she might to make her own escape,
Never shall relinquish his fair prize
Unchanged by He who damned her in this way.