I SAW Sweet Beauty in her Face.

Such as the daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.
I saw her coral Lips to move,
And with her Breath she did perfume the air:
Sacred and sweet, was all I saw in her.

Yea, put a bridle in the lion's mouth,
And lead him forth as a domestic cur,

These are the triumphs of all-powerful Beauty!

Beauty. Shakespeare.

ER Stature, as wand-like straight,

HER voie d; her Eyes as jewel-like,

And cas'd as richly; in pace another Juno;

soul;

Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry, The more she gives them speech.

FROM every blush that kindles in thy Cheeks,
Ten thousand little Loves and Graces spring
To revel in the Roses.

HER

ER lily Hand her rosy Cheek lies under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss.
Without the bed her other fair Hand was,
On the green coverlet: whose perfect white
Show'd like an April daisy on the grass,
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of Night.
Her Eyes, like marigolds, had sheath'd their light;
And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay,

Till they might open to adorn the day.

WITH

ITH Goddess-like demeanour forth she wert,
Not unattended, for on her as Queen

A pomp of winning Graces waited still,
And from about her shot darts of desire
Into all eyes to wish her still in sight.

HER Form was fresher than the morning Rose, When the dew wets its leaves; unstain'd and pure, As is the Lily, or the mountain Snow.

Beauty.Shakespeare.

EAUTY is but a vain and doubtful Good,

BA shining Gloss, that fadeth suddenly;

A Flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle Glass, that's broken presently;
A doubtful Good, a Gloss, a Glass, a Flower,
Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
And as Good lost, is seld or never found,
As faded Gloss no rubbing will refresh,
As Flowers dead, lie wither'd on the ground,
As broken Glass no cement can redress,
So Beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

A NATIVE Grace
Sat fair-proportion'd on her polish'd Limbs,
Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire,
Beyond the pomp of dress: for Loveliness
Needs not the foreign aid of Ornament,
But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most.

Beauty. Joanna Baillie.
WHEN I approach
Her Loveliness, so absolute she seems
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say,
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best;
All higher knowledge in her Presence falls
Degraded, Wisdom in discourse with her
Lose discount'nanc'd, and like Folly shows.
Blair.

Beauty.

BEAUTY! thou pretty plaything! dear deceit !

That steals so softly o'er the stripling's heart, And gives it a new pulse unknown before, The grave discredits thee: thy Charms expung'd, Thy Roses faded, and thy Lilies soil'd,

What hast thou more to boast of? Will thy lovers Flock round thee now, to gaze and do thee homage?

Methinks I see thee with thy Head laid low;
Whilst surfeited upon thy damask Cheek,
The high-fed worm, in lazy volumes roll'd,
Riots unscar'd. For this was all thy caution?
For this thy painful labours at thy glass,
T'improve those Charms, and keep them in repair,
For which the spoiler thanks thee not? Foul feeder;
Coarse fare and carrion please thee full as well,
And leave as keen a relish on the sense.

Beauty. Shakespeare.

SHE looks as clear

As morning Roses newly washed with Dew.
Beauty. Young.

WHAT tender force, what dignity divine,
What virtue consecrating every Feature;
Around that Neck what dross are gold and pearl!
Beauty. - Moore.

H, what a pure and sacred thing

Of the gross World, illumining

sight

One only mansion with her light:

Unseen by Man's disturbing eye—

The Flower, that blooms beneath the Sea
Too deep for sunbeams, doth not lie
Hid in more chaste obscurity!

Beauty. Lansdowne.

SHE seizes hearts, not waiting for consent,
Like sudden death, that snatches unprepar'd;
Like fire from Heav'n, scarce seen so soon as felt.

THE Bloom of op'ning Flowers, unsullied Beauty,
Softness, and sweetest Innocence she wears,

And looks like Nature in the World's first Spring.

O HOW I grudge the grave this heav'nly Form!
Thy Beauties will inspire the arms of Death,
And warm the pale cold tyrant into life.
Beauty. Rowe.

Is she not more than painting can express,
Or youthful Poets fancy, when they love.

A LAVISH planet reign'd when she was born,
And made her of such kindred mould to Heav'n,
She seems more Heav'n's than ours.

Beauty. - Dryden.

NE who would change the worship of all climates,

ONE make a new Religion where'er she comes,

Unite the differing Faiths of all the World,

To idolize her Face.

HER Eyes, her Lips, her Cheeks, her Shapes, her Features
Seem to be drawn by Love's own hand; by Love
Himself in love.

Beauty. St. Pierre.

EVERY trait of Beauty may be referred to some virtue,

as to Innocence, Candour, Generosity, Modesty, and Heroism.

SOCRA

Beauty. From the Italian.

MOCRATES called Beauty a short-lived Tyranny; Plato, a Privilege of Nature; Theophratus, a silent Cheat; Theocritus, a delightful Prejudice; Carneades, a solitary Kingdom; Domitian said, that nothing was more grateful; Aristotle affirmed, that Beauty was better than all the letters of recommendation in the World; Homer, that 'twas a glorious gift of Nature; and Ovid, alluding to him, calls it a favour bestowed by the Gods.

THEA

Beauty. Greville.

HE Criterion of true Beauty is, that it increases on examination; of false, that it lessens. There is something, therefore, in true Beauty that corresponds with right reason, and is not merely the creature of Fancy.

ARK her majestic Fabric: she's a Temple

M Sacred by birth, and built by hands Divine:

Her Soul's the Deity that lodges there;

Nor is the Pile unworthy of the God.

Beauty. From the French.

EAUTY, unaccompanied by Virtue, is as a Flower

ВЕ

EAUTY is spread abroad through earth and sea and sky, and dwells on the face and form, and in the heart of Man: and he will shrink from the thought of its being a thing which he, or any one else, could monopolize. He will deem that the highest and most blessed privilege of his genius is, that it enables him to cherish the widest and fullest sympathy with the hearts and thoughts of his brethren.

Beauty. Spenser.

NOUGHT under heaven so strongly doth allure

The sence of man and all his minde possesse,
As Beautie's lovely baite, that doth procure
Great Warriours oft their rigour to represse,
And mighty hands to forget their Manlinesse,
Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye,
And wrapt in fetters of a golden Tresse,
That can with melting pleasaunce mollifye
Their hardened Hearts enur'd to bloud and cruelty.
Beauty. - Lee.

O SHE is all Perfections!

All that the blooming Earth can send forth fair;
All that the gaudy Heavens could drop down glorious.

THAT

HAT is not the most perfect Beauty, which, in public, would attract the greatest observation; nor even that which the Statuary would admit to be a faultless piece of clay kneaded up with blood. But that is true Beauty, which has not only a Substance, but a Spirit,-a Beauty that we must intimately know, justly to appreciate,-a Beauty lighted up in conversation, where the Mind shines as it were through its casket, where, in the language of the Poet, “the eloquent blood spoke in her Cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, that we might almost say her Body thought." An order and a mode of Beauty which, the more we know, the more we accuse ourselves for not having before discovered those thousand Graces which bespeak that their owner has a Soul. This is that Beauty which never cloys, possessing Charms as resistless as those of the fascinating Egyptian, for which Antony wisely paid the bauble of a World,-a Beauty like the rising of his own Italian Suns, always enchanting, never the same.