Love is not blind. I see with single eye Your ugliness and other women`s grace. I know the imperfection of your face, The eyes too wide apart, the brow too high For beauty. Learned from earliest youth am I In loveliness, and cannot so erase Its letters from my mind, that I may trace You faultless, I must love until I die. More subtle is the sovereignty of love: So am I caught that when I say, "Not fair," `Tis but as if I said, "Not here—not there Not risen—not writing letters." Well I know What is this beauty men are babbling of; I wonder only why they prize it so.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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