Chapter VI

O beauty, beauty that can never die!
O music, music meeting on thy mouth!
Challenge the wings of morning, bid them fly
Over the earth, east, west, north, and south,
To find one other woman fair as thou;
One other woman in whom harmonies
Rise up like fountains singing in the sun.
Supernal Wonder! thou art more than these
Frail jars of perfumed balsams from the bough
Of Life's tree, emptied ere the day be done.