Sylvia, methinks you are unfit
For your great Lord's embrace;
For tho' we all allow you wit,
We can't a handsome face.

Then where's the pleasure, where's the good
Of spending time and cost?
For if your wit ben't understood,
Your keeper's bliss is lost.

Charles Sackville

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sylvia-methinks-you-are-unfit-2/