Long have I gazed through life’s ethereal smoke

And in that haze have watched fair beauties pass,

Where many sport their fairness as a cloak

That hides a heart stone ugly, rude and crass.

Sweet beauty is not always golden truth

And truth is rarely simple beauty blessed,

For outward grace is oft the veil of youth

To stand brief moments, there by springtime dressed.

But you, dear heart, show beauty from the coeur—

This truth I speak, and boldly here defend:

To state this peerless garment that you wear

Will age unblemished to the very end;

Most beauty is not truth that’s outward seen—

But more charm’s aspect glossed in virtue’s mien.