Love is not blind. I see with single eye Your ugliness and other women’s grace. I know the imperfection of your face, The eyes too wide apart, the brow too high For beauty. Learned from earliest youth am I In loveliness, and cannot so erase Its letters from my mind, that I may trace You faultless, I must love until I die. More subtle is the sovereignty of love: So am I caught that when I say, “Not fair,” ‘Tis but as if I said, “Not here—not there Not risen—not writing letters.” Well I know What is this beauty men are babbling of; I wonder only why they prize it so. Source: Millay, Edna St. Vincent. "Love is not blind." Sonnets.org. Sonnet Central, n.d. Web. 17 May 2011. Which rhyme scheme does this poem use?
