Of Inaccessible Beauty

Ladies in elegant silks and laces

Have come at times to my insignificant shop,

For pieces of jade, or banners, or curious cuttings of ivory.

And I look with insufferable emotion

Upon their roseleaf skin,

And breathe the soft scents that flow from their garments,

And long to soothe their lily-fingered hands.

In their presence

I am seized with longings unutterable,

And am filled with a sickness of my present unkind estate.

But then I remember

That Beauty's not always a star,

Not always remote, not always in lofty places,

Chrysanthemum-clad and lily-sheathed;

But often lies in the hedges

And peeps from street-corners

And lurks shyly behind broken doorways.

And I think upon the kind and considerate beauty

Of the maid with the golden curls,

And her patched, uncoloured robes of common cloth.

And with a change of mood I charge the elegant ladies

Three times the value of the articles chosen,

And thus tear from their flowery bodies

Pieces of their billowing silk

To deck the less fervid beauty of my friend.