I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in read more

I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in either of them: Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden.

The essence of all beauty, I call love,
The attribute, the evidence, and end,
The consummation to read more

The essence of all beauty, I call love,
The attribute, the evidence, and end,
The consummation to the inward sense
Of beauty apprehended from without,
I still call love.

Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
For me her constant flame appears;
The garland she hath read more

Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
For me her constant flame appears;
The garland she hath culled, I wear
On brows bald since my thirty years.
Ye veils that deck my loved one rare,
Fall, for the crowning triumph's nigh.
Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
And I, so plain a man am I!

Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.

Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd She is a woman, therefore to be won

She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd She is a woman, therefore to be won

Beauty, more than bitterness, makes the heart break.

Beauty, more than bitterness, makes the heart break.

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.

Exceeding fair she was not; and yet fair
In that she never studied to be fairer
Than read more

Exceeding fair she was not; and yet fair
In that she never studied to be fairer
Than Nature made her; her beauty cost her nothing,
Her virtues were so rare.

She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
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She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
Until she smiled on me:
Oh! then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.