The swollen throat among the mountains, and an ebon skin beneath the tropics,—

These shall all be reckoned beauty: and for weighty cause.

First, for the latter: Providence in mercy tempereth taste by circumstance,

So that Nature's must shall hit her creature's liking;

Second, for the middle: though the foolishness of vanity seek to mar proportion,

Still, defects in those we love shall soon be counted praise;

Third, for the first: a chief, and a princess, maimed or distorted from the cradle

Shall coax the flattery of slaves to imitate the great in their deformity:

Hence groweth habit: and habits make a taste,

And so shall servile zeal deface the types of beauty.