“ Thou Art Not Very Fair, Love.”
Air— “ On the Banks of Allan Water.”
Thou art not very fair, Love,1
But fair enough for me ;2
For the face I little care, Love,3
So the heart a fond one be.4
An even soul I prize, Love,5
More than an even brow ;6
And more than sun-bright eyes, Love,7
A sunny temper’s glow.8
If the lip that presses mine, Love,9
Be love’s own sacred seal,10
I never will repine, Love,11
Or to softer kisses steal.12
Other forms may have more grace, Love,13
But they woo me hence in vain ;14
What are they to thy embrace, Love,15
By whom I’m loved again ?16