15. The beauteous wo that charms like shaded light,
The cheek yet young, that knows no youthful bloom,
Well suiteth her dark brow and forehead white:
And in the sad endurance of her eye

Is all that love believes of woman's majesty.

ELLIOTT.

16. She is a queen of noble Nature's crowning;
A smile of hers is like an act of grace:
She has no winsome looks, no pretty frowning,
Like daily beauties of the vulgar race;
But if she smile a light is on her face,
A clear, cool kindliness, a lunar beam
Of peaceful radiance, silvering o'er the stream
Of human thought with unabiding glory,
Not quite a waking truth, not quite a dream,
A visitation bright and transitory.

17.

18.

HARTLEY Coleridge.

A cheek where youth

And blood, with pen of truth,

Write what the reader sweetly ru'th.

RICHARD CRASHAW.

Her complexion light

And gladdening; a roseate tincture shines
Transparent in its place, her skin elsewhere
White as the foam from which in happy hour
Sprang the Thessalian Venus.

TAYLOR--Philip Van Artevelde

19. Her chance-caught looks express
An intellectual loveliness

Which make us turn and start,
Even when no outward sign we trace
Of beauty in the form and face,-

Looks kindled from the heart.

MOULTRIE-The Dream of Life.

20. She was younger once than she is now,
And prettier of course. I do not mean
Το say that there are wrinkles on her brow;
Yet to be candid, she is past eighteen-
Perhaps past twenty---but the girl is shy
About her age, and Heaven forbid that I
Should get myself in trouble by revealing
A secret of this sort.

HALLECK-Fanny.

21. At such bright eyes the stars do light themselves; At such a forehead swans renew their white, From such a lip the morning gathers blushes.

SHIRLEY-The Coronation.

22. A slender form where childhood's bounding grace Contendeth yet with woman's richer beauty.

Pocahontas. By a Citizen of the West.

23. A woman like a dew-drop, she's so purer than the

purest,

And her noble heart's the noblest, yes, and her sure

faith's the surest:

And her eyes are dark and humid, like the depth on depth of lustre

Hid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild-grape cluster,

Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck's rosetinted marble:

Then her voice's music-call it the well's bubbling, the bird's warble.

BROWNING-A Blot on the Scutcheon.

24. Love in her sunny eyes does basking play,
Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair,
Love does on both her lips forever stray,
And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there.
COWLEY.

25. Beauty has gone, but yet her mind is still
As beautiful as ever; still the play

Of light around her lips has every charm

Of childhood in its freshness.

26. Oh her smile it seems half holy,

As if drawn from thoughts more far

Than our common jestings are.

And if any painter drew her,
He would paint her unaware
With a halo round her hair.

PERCIVAL.

ELIZ. B. BARRETT.

27. Lovely as young, a childish excellence, Infantile grace, with archness intermixed,

28.

Plays in her look, and sparkles in her eye,

Which glows with ravishing fires from a dark orb
That has a depth like heaven.

Her either cheek discloses,
Mingled baths of milk and roses.

29. Her eye is like the star of love
That blinks across the evening dụn,
The locks that wave that eye above

SIMMS.

BEN JONSON.

Like light clouds curling round the sun.
HOGG-Queen's Wake.

30. Lives there on earth a power like that which lies In those resistless tones, in those dark eyes?

31.

Had lilies eyes,

BARRY CORNWALL.

With glad surprise

They'd own themselves undone,

When her pure brow

And neck of snow

Gleam in the morning sun.

MOTHERWELL.

32. A modest maid deck'd with a blush of honor,

Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love,
The wonder of all eyes that look upon her,

Sacred on earth, designed a saint above.

DANIEL.

33. The beam of beauty sparkling from above;
The flower of virtue and pure chastitie;

The blossom of sweet joy and perfect love;
The pearl of peerless grace and modesty ;
To her your thoughts you daily dedicate,
To her your heart you nightly martyrize,
To her your love you lowly do prostrate,
To her your life you wholly sacrifice.

SPENSER.

34. Her look, her eye, her manners speak a heart
Unknowing of deceit; a soul of honor,

Where frozen chastity has fixed her throne,
And unpolluted sanctity.

J. H. PAYNE.

35. Why, faith, she is too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great

praise.

Much Ado About Nothing.

36.

Flaxen are her ringlets,

Her eyebrows of a darker hue,

Bewitchingly o'erarching

Twa laughing e'en o' bonnie blue.

BURNS.

37. The joy of youth and health her eye displays, And ease of heart her every look conveys.

CRABBE.