Part 16

21. Half the charms that deck her face, Arise from powder, shreds, and lace.

GOLDSMITH.

22. Time from her form has ta'en away but little of its grace, His touch of thought hath dignified the beauty of her face.

BAYLEY.

23. 'Tis strange, That though you study long, you cannot tell The color of her eye, that seems to change, Beneath the ivory lid, from brilliant black To liquid hazel, then to full soft gray, Fast melting into violet.

MISS M. E. LEE.

24. Her face is heaven's bow in showers. Her dark hair flows round it like streaming clouds.

OSSIAN.

25. She has an innocently downcast look, And when she raises up her eyes of blue, It seems as if her features were a book, Where sweet affection letters love for you.

RUFUS DAWES.

26. Indeed she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess.

Troilus and Cressida.

27. I never saw a crowned queen, With such a noble air, So angel-like, so womanly, As is your lady fair.

MARY HOWITT.

28. Around her playful lips do glitter Heat lightnings of a girlish scorn, Harmless they are, for nothing bitter In that dear heart was ever born. That merry heart, that cannot lie Within its warm nest quietly, But ever from the full dark eye Is looking kindly, night and morn.

J. R. LOWELL.

29. Oh, her glance is the brightest that ever has shone, And the lustre of love's on her cheek; But all the bewildering enchantment is gone The moment you hear her speak.

MRS. ELLET.

30. The rose, with faint and feeble streak, So slightly marks the maiden's cheek, That you would say her hue is pale; But if she face the Southern gale, Or speaks, or sings, or quicker moves, Or hears the praise of those she loves, Or when of interest is express'd Aught that wakes feeling in her breast, The mantling blood in ready play Rivals the blush of opening day.

SCOTT--Rokeby.

31. She dresses aye sae clean and neat, Both decent and genteel; And then there's something in her gait Gars ony dress look weel.

BURNS.

32. She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

BYRON.

33. Eyes of the gray, The soft gray of the brooding dove, Full of the sweet and tender ray Of holy love.

MRS. NORTON.

34. I saw her hand--she has a leathern hand, A freestone color'd hand. I verily did think That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hand; She has a housewife's hand!

As You Like It.