Edmund Spenser(1552–1599)

Sonnet 79 ("Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it")

Men call you fayre, and you doe credit 0 it,believe

For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see:

But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,beauty

And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.

For all the rest, how ever fayre it be,

Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew:form

But onely that is permanent and free

From frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.attend

That is true beautie: that doth argue you

To be divine and borne of heavenly seed:

Deriv'd from that fayre Spirit,9 from whom al true

And perfect beauty did at first proceed.

He onely fayre, and what he fayre hath made,

All other fayre lyke flowres untymely fade.