When the sklll'd fashioner of female faces
 Designed your mask, he wrought with cunning fist,
 And made a mouth expressly to be kiss'd -
Not for shrill utterance nor pert grimaces.

The curved, ripe lips-above the rounded chin -
 He dyed the hue of summer's reddest rose,
 Then placed a smile upon them to disclose
A glimpse of white and even pearls within.

Those lips are silent, sweetheart! - but your eyes
 Are eloquent, and they love's lesson teach
 Better than other woman's aptest speech -
In their soft light the tend'rest language lies.

In womankind - the world has long confess'd -
A silent mouth and speaking eyes are best.