The cause of love can never be assign'd: 'Tis in no face; but in the lover's mind. And Cowley thus addresses beauty as a mere imaginary: Beauty! thou wild fantastic ape, Who dost in ev'ry country change thy shape: Here black; there brown; here tawny; and there white! Thou flatt'rer, who comply'st with ev'ry sight! Who hast no certain what, nor where.
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