The Perfect Lover
It is not love to love the fair
And feast one's eyes on beauty rare,
For beauty all men's gaze enthrals,
Nor for a lover's rapture calls.
Nay, he alone true love doth know
Who pays no heed to outward show,
And though his mistress homely be
Still finds in her the perfect she.
And feast one's eyes on beauty rare,
For beauty all men's gaze enthrals,
Nor for a lover's rapture calls.
Nay, he alone true love doth know
Who pays no heed to outward show,
And though his mistress homely be
Still finds in her the perfect she.
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