(To H. N. H.)

Why think on Beauty as for ever lost When fire and steel have worked their evil will, Since Beauty lasts beyond decaying dust, And in the after-dark is lovely still? We are no phantoms; Body is but the case Of an immortal Flame that does not perish, Can the all-withering power of Time outface, Since God Himself with love that flame does cherish. Take comfort then, and dare the dangerous thing, Death flouting with his impotence of wrath; For Beauty arms us ’gainst his envious sting, Safes us in any the most perilous path. Come then, O brothers, greet what may befall With Joy, for Beauty’s Maker ordereth all.