1796 - 1849
She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
Until she smiled on me:
O then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.
But now her looks are coy and cold,
To mine they ne'er reply;
And yet I cease not to behold
The love-light in her eye:
Her very frowns are fairer far
Then smiles of other maidens are.
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