William Shakespeare

“ Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view
Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
All tongues— the voice of souls— give thee that due,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend. ”

“ They look into the beauty of thy mind,
And that in guess they measure by thy deeds;
Then— churls— their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
But why thy odour matcheth not thy show, The soil is this, that thou dost common grow. ”