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SONNET XVI.

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(CONTINUED.)

Said I thou wast not beautiful? in sooth,
If that I did, shame blister my false tongue
For calumny most foul upon thee flung:
For what is beauty? Eye, cheek, hair, lip, tooth,

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Forehead and form, in bloom of radiant youth
And faultless symmetry? Such bards have sung,
And painters over such enamour'd hung,
And such have coxcombs praised with flatteries smooth;
But more than such doth heartfelt love demand,
And more than such, beloved girl, is thine:
Thought, sympathy, affection soft and bland,
Sense, feeling, goodness in thy sweet eyes shine:
Is not this beauty which all understand?
Which sways all hearts with power and grace divine?