To Beauty

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To Beauty

To worship

At the altar of Beauty,

To feel her loveliness and pain,

To thrill

At the wonder of her gorgeous moon

Or the sharp, swift, silver swords

Of falling rain.

To walk in a golden garden

When an autumn sun

Has almost set,

When near-night’s purple splendor

Shimmers to a star-shine net.

To worship

At the altar of Beauty

Is a pleasure divine,

Not given to the many many

But to fools

Who drink Beauty’s wine.

Not given to the many many

But to fools

Who seek no other goddess

Nor grapes

Plucked from another’s

Vine.