Vain are the charms of white and…

Vain are the charms of white and red, Which paint the blooming fair; Give me the nymph whose snow is spread Not o'er her face, but hair:

Of smoother cheeks the winning grace With open force defies; But in the wrinkles of her face Cupid in ambush lies.

If naked eyes set hearts on b'aze, And amorous warmth inspire; Thro' glass, who darts her pointed rays, Lights up a fiercer fire.

Nor rivals, nor the train of years, My peace or bliss destroy; Alive, she gives no jealous fears, And dead, she crowns my joy.