Classic Poem

I.

Praise Beauty! So say I — although the seas
Of loss of being choke the effort down,
And universes armed against me frown,
I stand upright and speak the thing I please,
Not bending feeble supplication knees
To any petty bully of the town,
Be he philosopher or sage or clown,
Whether his glances petrify or freeze.

Praise Beauty! and if Beauty loves me not,
And never on my brow may cool be laid
Aught sweeter than the sorry cypress shade,
Nor pointed tips of bay-leaves touch the spot
With inward brain-desires and panting hot,
Yet unto Beauty be my tribute paid!

II.

Ah! sweet one, why thus lure us on by day,
And send us flying phantom dreams by night
That lips may smart for unattained delight?
Why, treacherous, teach our vehement tongues to pray
Just to annihilate us with a " Nay, "
A cold still countenance after smiles so bright?
Sweet, thou wast rosy once, why now be white?
Thou who didst hasten towards us, why delay?

Why tarry thus the backward lingering wheels
Of Beauty's chariot harnessed to the sun,
And swift by rights as dawn's approach begun,
Or echoes following hard triumphant peals
When all the brain brimful of rapture reels
With melodies that beat and burst and stun?