Certainly beauty has a prevalling lover,
And a less piteous sovereignty must
Be hers than goldenest mouths that stop with dust;
Or beating hearts that never would give over,
Clogged; bitter passions eased with dissolution.
Fair shapes are forfeit here that take impress
Of what’s intangible, and loveliness
Moves gathering sorrows, as the winds, pollution.
This is the semblance suit, in shadow-tone
Of chase and quarry, apprehension wrung
With half perceiving; but let nothing fail,
Thouph not the mind’s nor body’s rigors atone
To ransom the presumption, and the tongue
Be drunk with honey and madness that brings the tale.
Certainly Beauty
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