“O like Venus attended by a thousand tender Cupids, setting foot upon the sea that gave her birth.”

“Who will not commend the wit of astrology? Venus, born out of the sea, hath her exaltation in Pisces.”

Thomas Browne (1605–1682) English polymath

“Thou in thy lake dost see
Thyself: so she
Beholds her image in her eyes
Reflected. Thus did Venus rise
From out the sea.”

James Matthews Legaré (1823–1859) American writer

“It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,
And left thee all her lovely hues.”

William Henry Davies (1871–1940) British poet

“We called her Mother Earth. Because she gave birth to us, and then we sucked her dry.”

Jon Stewart (1962) American political satirist, writer, television host, actor, media critic and stand-up comedian

“Reason has moons, but moons not hers
Lie mirror'd on her sea,
Confounding her astronomers,
But, O! delighting me.”

Ralph Hodgson (1871–1962) British writer

“She is a mortal danger to all men. She is beautiful without knowing it, and possesses charms that she’s not even aware of. She is like a trap set by nature - a sweet perfumed rose in whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She instills grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture. Venus in her shell was never so lovely, and Diana in the forest never so graceful as my Lady when she strides through Paris!”

Edmond Rostand (1868–1918) French writer

“Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kisses—Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lips, the rose
Growing one's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes—
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this for thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?”

John Lyly (1554–1606) English politician

“Raise a song for her, O Muse!
The violet-crownèd maiden,
And praise her soft throat's changing hues,
Her low voice, laughter-laden. Sing yet again her thousand charms,
Her eyes entrancing splendour,
Her swarthy cheeks and supple arms
And bosom dark and tender. Yea, sing forevermore of her,
My mistress soft-beguiling,
Fairest of all who are, or were,
My Sappho, sweetly-smiling.”

Alcaeus of Mytilene (-600–-560 BC) ancient Greek poet

“O you had loved her sitting there,
Half hidden in her loosen'd hair:
Why, you had loved her for her eyes,
Their large and melancholy look
Of tenderness, and well mistook
Their love for light of Paradise.”

Joaquin Miller (1837–1913) American judge