What in this little Tale we find,
Is less a fable than real truth.
In those we love appear rare gifts of mind,
And body too: wit, judgment, beauty, youth.
A countenance whereon, by natures hand,
Beauty is trac'd, also the lively stain
Of such complexion art can ne'er attain,
With all these gifts hath not so much command
On hearts, as hath one secret charm alone.
Love finds that out, to all besides unknown.
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