"Lo, how finely the Graces can it foot To the instrument! They dancen deffly and singen soote, In their merriment. Wants not a fourth Grace to make the dance even? Let that room to my Lady be yeven. She shall be a Grace, To fill the fourth place, And reign with the rest in heaven."
- Edmund Spenser
"Her face so fair, as flesh it seemŽd not, But heavenly portrait of bright angel's hue, Clear as the sky, withouten blame or blot, Through goodly mixture of complexions due; And in her cheek the vermeil red did shew Like roses in a bed of lilies shed, The which ambrosial odours from them threw And gazers' sense with double pleasure fed, Able to heal the sick and to revive the dead."