O reason, best ally, and first assistant,
Of beauty, wandering in his own sweet maze;
Arise, great empress, and dear spirit ministrant,
O glance thy sunshine, quickening this foul haze;
If beauty knows to conquer human hearts,
Lurking in virtue, wisdom, face or form,
Or sanctifying success in nature’s parts,
In the blue heaven, on earth, in calm or storm,
Declare its essence; by what power it bends
Each stubborn element to its strong hint:
Is this too hard? then whither beauty tends;
Assure at least divine its fateful dint:
Give some rich medicine that may scorn its hold,
And frothing warm the chalice; here all’s cold.