Therefore is he proof against a face, unlovely to his likings,
And common minds shall scorn the taste, that shrunk from sin's distortion.
There is a beauty for the reason; grandly independent of externals,
It looketh from the windows of the house, shining in the man triumphant.
I have seen the broad blank face of some misshapen dwarf
Lit on a sudden as with glory, the brilliant light of mind:
Who then imagined him deformed? intelligence is blazing on his forehead,
There is empire in his eye, and sweetness on his lip, and his brown cheek glittereth with beauty:
And I have known some Nireus of the camp, a varnished paragon of chamberers,
Fine, elegant, and shapely, moulded as the master-piece of Phidias,—