Classic Poem

It was one of those faces, so gifted with graces,
Such sweetness of thought, such expression was in it;
Your eyes were enchanted, as if from their places —
Your heart — if you had one — was gone in a minute.
Yet it was not that Beauty reigned paramount there,
That the lip and the cheek were to magic allied,
'Twas a softness of feature, so winningly fair,
Expression seem'd worth every beauty beside!

I care not for clever, vain creatures, that ever
Are dreaming of conquests, and captives o'erthrown;
His heart is not lost , though awhile he may sever,
Who gets, in exchange, a good heart for his own! —
And sweet is the feeling, delicious the duty,
When hearts beat the same till existence is run;
For, oh! by Expression — as often as Beauty —
The soul of the Lover — the Husband — is won!