Arise, great empress, and dear spirit ministrant,

O glance thy sunshine, quickening this foul haze;

If beauty knows to conquer human hearts,

Lurking in virtue, wisdom, face or form,

Or sanctifying success in nature’s parts,

In the blue heaven, on earth, in calm or storm,

Declare its essence; by what power it bends

Each stubborn element to its strong hint:

Is this too hard? then whither beauty tends;

Assure at least divine its fateful dint:

Give some rich medicine that may scorn its hold,

And frothing warm the chalice; here all’s cold.

{32}

{32}

XXXII.

Beauty by his own light shines forth and wins

Consent of all men to his supreme power;

Who will not think so, unagreeing, sins

’Gainst love that hails each beauty of an hour:

For love is only constant, when it sways

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