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
Than smiles of other maidens are.
Hartley Coleridge
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