Thomas Parnell (1679–1718)

WHEN thy beauty appears

In its graces and airs,

All bright as an angel new dropt from the sky;

At distance I gaze and am awed by my fears,

So strangely you dazzle my eye!

But when without art,

Your kind thoughts you impart,

When your love runs in blushes through every vein;

When it darts from your eyes, when it pants in your heart,

Then I know you’re a woman again.

There’s a passion and pride

In our sex (she replied),

And thus, might I gratify both, I would do:

Still an angel appear to each lover beside,

But still be a woman in you.