Deep lines of honor all can hit,
Or mark out a superior wit;
Consummate goodness all can show
And where such graces shine below:
But the more tender strokes to trace,
To express the promise of a face,
When but the dawnings of the mind.
We from an air unripen'd find;
Which altering, as new moments rise.
The pen or pencil's art defies; .mw-parser-output .wst-pline{color:#2E8B57;font-size:83%}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-default2{margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-r{float:right;text-indent:0;margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-l{float:left;text-align:right;margin-left:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-or{float:right;text-align:right;margin-right:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-n{font-style:normal}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-i{font-style:italic}10
When flesh and blood in youth appears,
Polish'd like what our marble wears;
Fresh as that shade of opening green,
Which first upon our groves is seen;
Enliven'd by a harmless fire,
And brighten'd by each gay desire;
These nicer touches would demand
A Cowley's or a Waller's hand,
To explain, with undisputed art,
What 'tis affects the enlighten'd heart, 20
When every darker thought gives way,
Whilst blooming beauty we survey;
To shew how all that's soft and sweet.
Does in the fair Serena meet;
To tell us with a sure presage,
The charms of her maturer age.