XXV
Unto the Glass Gorgona torques her Eye
Beholding there Ten Myriad Fragments fly,
The Parts dispersing with lugubrious Din -
Who will invent a Mirror that will lie?
XXVI
Oft have I heard the Cant of flattering Friend
Admire my Forehead's Apollonic Bend,
Then to the Glass I've wreathed my sad Regard -
The Looking-Glass is candid to the End.
XXVII
Look to the Rose who, as I pass her by,
Breathes the fond Attar-musk up to the Sky,
Spreading her silken Blushes - does she know
That I have come to smell and not to Buy?
XXVIII
Ah, Rose, assume a gentle Avarice
And hoard the soft Allurements that entice;
For One will come who holds the Golden Means
To buy your Blushes at the Standard Price.
XXIX
Down to the Deeps of Sheol, anguish-torn,
I've hurtled Beauty to a State forlorn,
Beauty the Curse, - yet if a Curse it be,
With what an Equanimity 'tis borne!
XXX
What shallow Guerdon of terrestrial Strife,
For him who quits this Donjon Keep of Life,
To read the World's expectant Epitaph:
"He left a handsome Widow in his Wife!"
XXXI
Before the Dawn's Encroachment I awoke
And heard again the bodeful Adage spoke:
Society Engagements are like Eggs -
You know not what's Inside them till they're Broke.
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