Not the proudest damsel here <br />Looks so well as doth my dear. <br />All the borrowed light of dress <br />Outshining not her loveliness, <br /> <br />A loveliness not born of art, <br />But growing outwards from her heart, <br />Illuminating all her face, <br />And filling all her form with grace. <br /> <br />Said I, of dress the borrowed light <br />Could rival not her beauty bright? <br />Yet, looking round, `tis truth to tell, <br />No damsel here is dressed so well. <br /> <br />Only in them the dress one sees, <br />Because more greatly it doth please <br />Than any other charm that's theirs, <br />Than all their manners, all their airs. <br /> <br />But dress in her, although indeed <br />It perfect be, we do not heed, <br />Because the face, the form, the air <br />Are all so gentle and so rare.<br /><br />Robert Fuller Murray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-a-high-ceremony/
