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1. The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, The observ'd of all observers.
2. Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower,
3. All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth.
4. Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown
5. Virtue can brook the thoughts of age
6. 'Tis not a lip or eye we beauty call, But the full force and joint effect of all.
POPE'S Essay on Criticism.
7. If to her share some female errors fall,
8. Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay.
9. I long not for the cherries on the tree,
10. Grace was in her steps, heaven in her eyes, In every gesture dignity and love.
12. "Tis not a set of features or complexion,
MILTON'S Paradise Lost. 11. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her shape, her features, Seem to be drawn by Love's own hand.
All that painting can express,
Or youthful poets fancy when they love.
13. And those who paint them truest, praise them most.
16. Beauty! thou pretty plaything! dear deceit; That steals so gently o'er the stripling's heart, And gives it a new pulse unknown before!
15. What's female beauty but an air divine,
Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine?
Rowe's Fair Penitent.
No fantastic robe,
That e'er caprice invented, custom wore,
18. To make the cunning artless, tame the rude, Subdue the haughty, shake the undaunted soul:These are the triumphs of all-powerful beauty.
But then her face,
20. There was a soft and pensive grace,
22. She was a form of life and light,
That, seen, became a part of sight;
21. For faultless was her form as beauty's queen, And every winning grace that love demands, With mild attemper'd dignity was seen
Play o'er each lovely limb, and deck her angel mien.
23. So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
24. Fair as the first that fell of womankind.
25. So bright the tear in beauty's eye,
26. Who hath not prov'd how feebly words essay
BYRON'S Bride of Abydos.
Such around her shone
The nameless charms unmark'd by her alone:
BYRON'S Bride of Abydos. 28. Heart on her lip, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.
BYRON'S Bride of Abydos.
Who can curiously behold
BYRON'S Childe Harold. 30. And form'd for all the witching arts of love.
BYRON'S Childe Harold. 31. Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands, Would shake the saintship of an anchorite.
BYRON'S Childe Harold.
32. The bee from that lip more nectar could sip Than from all the sweet buds in the bower.
33. Oh, fresh is the rose in the gay dewy morning,
34. Without the smile, from partial beauty won, Oh, what were man ?—a world without a sun!
35. Who hath not paus'd while beauty's pensive eye
36. 'T were easier far to paint the hues of heaven, When Morn, resplendent with new glory, wakes, Or steal the varying tints by sunset given
To the gold-crested wave, the while it breaks,
37. For every block of marble holds a Venus,
38. Thou art beautiful, young lady;
39. Thou art not beautiful-yet thy young face
J. G. WHITTIER.
MRS. A. B. WELBY,