BEAUTY. 41 BEAUTY-continued. Die when you will, you need not wear, Lord Herbert of Cherbury, Woman, 10. Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape, Who dost in every country change thy shape; Cowley. Herrick, Aph. 175 But vary'st still, and dost thyself declare ? There was another meaning in those gifts. Milton, Comus, 745. If you let slip time, like a neglected rose, It withers on the stalk with languish'd head. Milton, ib. 739. Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree Laden with blooming gold had need the guard Of dragon-watch with unenchanted eye, To save her blossoms and defend her fruit. Beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Milton, ib. 393. Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abash'd. Milton, P. R. 11. 220. Beauty with a bloodless conquest finds A welcome sovereignty in rudest minds. Waller. A lavish planet reign'd when she was born, Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth slippery way? Lee, Edipus. And see the dangers which we cannot shun. Dryden, Aurengz, Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet. Dryden, Cym. and Iph.1.2. One who would change the worship of all climates, And make a new religion where er she comes, Unite the differing faiths of all the world, To idolize her face. Dryden, Love's Triumph. Her eyes, her lips, her checks, her shapes, her features Dryden, Beauty's Triumph. All hearts, alike all faces cannot move, Sedley, Ant. and Cl. Rowe. Addison, Cato. Is she not more than painting can express, Gay, Dione, III. 1. Pope, E. C. 245. Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, BEAUTY-continued. BEAUTY. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, 48 Look on her face, and you'll forget them all. Pope, Rape, 11. 13. The bloom of opening flowers' unsullied beauty, And looks like nature in the world's first spring. The hand of time alone disarms Rowe, Tamerlane, As lamps burn silent with unconscious light, What tender force, what dignity divine, What virtue consecrating every feature; Broome. Aaron Hill. Aaron Hill. Around that neck what dross are gold and pearl! Young, Bu. What's female beauty, but an air divine, Through which the mind's all-gentle graces shine? They, like the sun, irradiate all between; The body charms, because the soul is seen. Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can bear; By the blossoms that cluster and whiten there: When her presence is felt with the deepest power; Young. Rufus Dawes Beauty, like wit, to judges should be shown; Lyttelton, Soliloquy of a Beauty, 1. 2 A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Keats, Endymion, 1. 1. Oh, fresh is the rose in the gay dewy morning, But in the fair presence of lovely young Jessie, Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Burns. Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies. Byron, Beppo, 45. Who can curiously behold The smoothness and the sheen of beauty's cheek Nor feel the heart can never all grow old? Byron, C.H. 111. 11. We gaze, and turn away, and know not why, Who hath not proved how feebly words essay Byron. The might-the majesty of loveliness? Byron, Bride of A. 1. She was a form of life and light, That, seen, became a part of sight; And rose, where'er I turned mine eye, The morning-star of memory. An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue Is no great matter, so 'tis in request, "T is nonsense to dispute about a hueThe kindest may be taken as a test. Byron, Giaour. Ibid. III. 74. The fair sex should be always fair; and no man, Ibid. 1. 61. Crabbe. Such harmony in motion, speech, and air, There's beauty all around our paths, Can trace it 'midst familiar things, And through their lowly guise. Mrs. Hemans. Without the smile, from partial beauty won, Oh, what were man ?-a world without a sun!Campbell, P. II. What is beauty? Not the show Of shapely limbs and features. No. These are but flowers That have their dated hours To breathe their momentary sweets, then go. 'T is the stainless soul within That outshines the fairest skin. Fir. 21. Sir A. De Vere Hunt. Her grace of motion and of look, the smooth What is beauty? Alas! 'tis a jewel, a glass, A bubble, a plaything, a rose, 'Tis the snow, dew, or air; 'tis so many things rare, That 'tis nothing, one well may suppose. 'Tis a jewel, Love's token; glass easily broken, A bubble that vanisheth soon; Milman. A plaything that boys cast aside when it cloys, MS. |