"For Lovers' eyes more sharply-sighted be Than other men's, and in dear Love's delight See more than any other eyes can see.
But they who love indeed, look otherwise With pure regard and spotless true intent, Drawing out of the object of their eyes A more refinèd form which they present Unto their mind void of all blemishment: Which seeing now so inly fair to be As outward it appeareth to the eye, And with the spirit's proportion to agree, Love thereon fixeth all his fantasie, And fully setteth his felieitie, Counting it fairer than it is indeed, And yet indeed its fairness doth exceed! Spenser'sHymn in honour of Beauty.
LUISA.
"Just like Love is yonder Rose, Heavenly sweetness round it throws, And in the midst of briars it blows, Just like Love!" Camoens.
I stood at eve upon the furrowed shore With One, that as the tide its legions filed Unto our feet, stooped down, and o'er and o'er Wrote on the sand that only name, and smiled— The stern, self-mocking smile joy owns no more— To see the waves efface it. "Far more slow," He said, "are Time's dull waters in their flow To wear away that name where it is writ And graven deep, as with a pointed gem, Upon the rock; yet vain to cancel it All else, so must I leave it unto them! This name, that I in weakness of self-scorn, With idle finger have dishonoured thus, Fair-written once in letters luminous, Was shut and clasped within my heart's great Book— For ever, as I deemed! rude hands have torn Those pages from my life, but Memory Hath kept them; yet for sadness scarce can brook Within that rifled volume now to look, Or shut its golden clasps without a sigh!
