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Whose head, befringed with bescattered tresses, Shows like Apollo's when the morn he dresses, Or like Aurora when with pearl she sets Her long, dishevell'd, rose-crown'd trammelets: Her forehead smooth, full, polish'd, bright and high Bears in itself a graceful majesty, Under the which two crawling eyebrows twine Like to the tendrils of a flatt'ring vine, Under whose shade two starry sparkling eyes Are beautifi'd with fair fring'd canopies. Her comely nose, with uniformal grace, Like purest white, stands in the middle place, Parting the pair, as we may well suppose. Each cheek resembling still a damask rose, Which like a garden manifestly show How roses, lilies, and carnations grow, Which sweetly mixed both with white and red, Like rose leaves, white and red, seem mingled.