567. She is Not Fair

Hartley Coleridge (1796—1849)

  SHE is not fair to outward view

  As many maidens be;

  Her loveliness I never knew

  Until she smiled on me.

  O then I saw her eye was bright,

  A well of love, a spring of light.

  But now her looks are coy and cold,

  To mine they ne’er reply,

  And yet I cease not to behold

  The love-light in her eye:

  Her very frowns are fairer far

  Than smiles of other maidens are.