Beauty Poem
What cherubim or spirits shall entreat
To preach the litany of thy beauty?
If rhyme and meter be the judge,
Then let my odes of bygone years
Fill dunes of sweet romanticism
With the stink of pusillanimity and nonsense.
Shall the minstrel regale thee in coquettish glee,
When springtime comes? What are his lyrics and songs
To describe the rapture of the gentle looks
That I long to hear alone.
Will spiteful maidens sob in the arms of their lovers
As you busily pass on the corner road?
What to speak of such frivolous indiscretion?
Only beauty without appellation will know.
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