Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

In the contempt and anger of his lip!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

He that loves a rosy cheek,

Or a coral lip admires,

Or from star-like eyes doth seek

Fuel to maintain his fires,—

As old Time makes these decay,

So his flames must waste away.

Thomas Carew (1589-1639): Disdain Returned.

I ne'er could any lustre see

In eyes that would not look on me;

I ne'er saw nectar on a lip

But where my own did hope to sip.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816): The Duenna. Act i. Sc. 2.

It is for homely features to keep home,—

They had their name thence; coarse complexions

And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply

The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool.

What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that,

Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 748.