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.

It's beauty that captures your attention; personality which captures your heart.

It's beauty that captures your attention; personality which captures your heart.

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet,
Which once read more

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet,
Which once inflam'd my soul, and still inspires my wit.

Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart

Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart

I must not say that she was true,
Yet let me say that she was fair;
And read more

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.

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up read more

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up through the darkness,
While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,
Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching, silently weeps.
Weep not, child,
Weep not, my darling,
With these kisses let me remove your tears,
The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,
Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night,
the Pleiades shall emerge,
They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,
The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,
The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.
Then dearest child mournest thou only for jupiter?
Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?
Something there is, (With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.

Tell me, shepherds, have you seen
My Flora pass this way?
In shape and feature Beauty's queen,
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Tell me, shepherds, have you seen
My Flora pass this way?
In shape and feature Beauty's queen,
In pastoral array.

You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your read more

You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your soul's own doing. •Marie Carmichael Stopes Do you love me because I'm beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?

Beauty is the promise of happiness.

Beauty is the promise of happiness.