1. <br />Fair, sweet, and young, receive a prize <br />Reserved for your victorious eyes: <br />From crowds, whom at your feet you see, <br />O pity, and distinguish me! <br />As I from thousand beauties more <br />Distinguish you, and only you adore. <br /> <br />2. <br />Your face for conquest was design'd, <br />Your every motion charms my mind; <br />Angels, when you your silence break, <br />Forget their hymns, to hear you speak; <br />But when at once they hear and view, <br />Are loth to mount, and long to stay with you. <br /> <br />3. <br />No graces can your form improve, <br />But all are lost, unless you love; <br />While that sweet passion you disdain, <br />Your veil and beauty are in vain: <br />In pity then prevent my fate, <br />For after dying all reprieve's too late.<br /><br />John Dryden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-song-fair-sweet-and-young-receive-a-prize/
