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The black bespeaks a lovely heart,

Whose soft emotions soon depart;

The blue a steadier flame betray,

Which burns and lives beyond a day;

The black the features best disclose,

The blue my feelings all repose.

Then let each resign, without control,

The black all mind, and blue all soul.

Shakespeare has many expressions, which evince his high appreciation of this beautiful organ, and deems it fruitful in imagery; he speaks of—

Again, when speaking of Portia's picture, he says:—

Again,—

Again,—

Again,—