It is not always the face,
Nor the clothes,
Or the fortunes that gives grace,
Or the feature, or the youth.

But the language and the truth,
With the ardor and the passion,
Gives the lover weight and fashion.

If then you would hear my story,
First, prepare to be sorry,
That you'll never knew till now,
Either whom to love or how,

But be glad as soon as you got me,
When you hear that this is him,
Of whose gentleness was sung.

He'll make the old grannies young,
Keep the middle age at stay,
And let nothing hide decay,
Till he be the reason why
All the world for love may die.

© Malnifruit 🍎🍎🍎