The flaming rose gloomed swarthy red; The borage gleams more blue; And low white flowers, with starry head, Glimmer the rich dusk through.
George MacDonaldDespise me not, For if I was swarthy once. Thou canst regard me now:;; Since Thou hast regarded me, Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.
Like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
Tennyson