It is much immortal beauty to admire,
But more immortal beauty to withstand;
The perfect soul can overcome desire
If beauty with divine delight be scanned;
For what is beauty but the blooming child
Of fair Olympus, that in night must end
And be for ever from that bliss exiled,
If admiration stand too much its friend?
The wind may be enamoured of a flower,
The ocean of the green and laughing shore,
The silver lightning of a lofty tower,
But must not with too near a love adore;
Or flower, and margin, and cloud-capped tower
Love and delight shall with delight devour!