The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white is stays for ever,
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The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white is stays for ever,
Their red it never dies;
But Phyllida, my Phillida!
Her colour comes and goes;
It trembles to a lily,--
It wavers to a rose.

Truth exists for the wise, beauty for the feeling heart.

Truth exists for the wise, beauty for the feeling heart.

Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.

Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.

Thou who hast
The fatal gist of beauty.

Thou who hast
The fatal gist of beauty.

I must not say that she was true,
Yet let me say that she was fair;
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I must not say that she was true,
Yet let me say that she was fair;
And they, that lovely face who view,
They should not ask if truth be there.

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

Beauty is not caused. It is.

Beauty is not caused. It is.

In places where this beauty has already disappeared, we will reconstruct it.

In places where this beauty has already disappeared, we will reconstruct it.

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.