She is not fair to outward view;
No beauty hers of form or face
She hath no witchery, ’tis true,
No grace.
Nor pretty wit, nor well-stored mind,
Nor azure eyes, nor golden hair
Hath she. She is–I am not blind–
Not fair.
What makes me love her, then? say you,
For such a maid is not my wont.
Love her! What makes you think I do?
I don’t.
(Franklin Pierce Adams)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Mind Poems, Fairness Poems, Wit PoemsBased on Keywords: witchery, is-i, well-stored