“This was not the beauty—oh, nothing like this,
That to young Nourmahal gave such magic of bliss;
But that loveliness, ever in motion, which plays
Like the light upon autumn’s soft shadowy days.
“Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flies
From the lips to the cheek, from the cheek to the eyes;
Now melting in midst and now breaking in gleams,
Like the glimpses a saint has of heaven in his dreams.
“My crown is in my heart, not on my head,
Nor decked with diamonds and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen: my crown is called content;
A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.”
Nothing that is not beautiful is fit for a place in a Christly life. Strength is essential, but strength need not be rugged and uncomely; art has learned to give it graceful form. Truth and honesty, justice and right are prime elements in a worthy life, but they need not be unbeautiful. Sometimes, it is true, we see men in whom these great qualities are strongly marked, yet in whom beauty is lacking. Some even boast of being blunt men, meaning that they say what they think, not caring how they may say it. But there is no reason why any sturdy quality of character should be wanting in loveliness. We may clothe the homeliest virtue in garments of grace. We may be honest and yet gentle and kindly. We may be true and live very sweetly.
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