A. POPE.
Through all disguise, form, place or name,
Beneath the flaunting robes of sin,
Through poverty and squalid shame,
Thou lookest on the man within.
On man, as man, retaining yet,
Howe'er debased, and soiled, and dim,
The crown upon his forehead set--
The immortal gift of God to him.
_Democracy_. J.G. WHITTIER.
PERFECTION.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
_King John, Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
How many things by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection!
_Merchant of Venice, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.
Those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honor.
_King Henry VIII., Act v. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.
Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
_Essay on Criticism, Pt. II_. A. POPE.
PERFUME.
And the ripe harvest of the new-mown hay
Gives it a sweet and wholesome odor.
_Richard III. (Altered), Act v. Sc. 3_. C. CIBBER.
Perfume for a lady's chamber.
_Winter's Tale, Act iv. Sc. 4_.
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