And, with peerless enchantment, your flashing eyes, fill.
“No gem in your casket such lustre can lend,
No silk wrought in silver, such beauty, bestow,
With that talisman heed not, tho’ simply, my friend,
Your robe and your ringlets unjewelled may flow!”
“Oh! tell it me! give it me!”—Beauty exclaimed,—
As Hope’s happy smile, to her rosy mouth, stole,—
“Nay! you wear it e’en now, since your temper is tamed,
’Tis the light of Good Humour,—that gem of the soul.”