MEN CALL YOU FAIR
by: Edmund Spenser (1552-1599)
- EN call you fayre, and you doe
credit it,
- For that your self ye daily such doe see:
- But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,
- And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.
- For all the rest, how ever fayre it be,
- Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew:
- But onely that is permanent and free
- From frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.
- That is true beautie: that doth argue you
- To be divine and borne of heavenly seed:
- Deriv'd from that fayre Spirit, from whom al true
- And perfect beauty did at first proceed.
- He onely fayre, and what he fayre hath made,
- All other fayre lyke flowres untymely fade.
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POEMS BY EDMUND SPENSER |
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