Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/86

58

To reason, know that nought you gain

Of credit through behaviour vain

And frivolous, nor do you one bit

Better your looks, poor foolish chit.

And if some man should quote a throng

Of mouldy saws to prove me wrong,

And show the folly of my words,

Saying: Fine feathers make fine birds,

And that good garniture sits well

Alike on dame and damosel;

I should not trouble to reply

At length, but simply say: You lie.

For all the beauty of fair things,

Whether it be delightful spring’s

Sweet fleur-de-lis, as white as milk,

Roses, or violets, or silk.

Or other tissues fair (as I

Have read in many a book) doth lie

Within themselves, and not in those

Who wear them.

Happy she who knows

That all the choicest things ’neath heaven

Can ne’er improve, but oft may leaven

The beauty Nature gives.

The heart

In this same quality hath part.

To make my meaning stand out clear:

Suppose a dunghill disappear

From sight beneath a coverlet

Of silk, with fragrant flowers beset

Of brightest hues, ’twould still remain

A dunghill, and would stink amain