... For I have seen

In lonely places, and in lonelier hours,

Beyond the involving veils of day and night

Circumfluent o’er the shadowy drift of years,

My vision of the rainbow-aureoled face

Of her whom men name Beauty: proud, austere,

Inviolate, immortal, undismayed

By the swift-eddying dust of wandering Time—

Dim vision of the flawless, perfect Face,

Divinely fugitive, that haunts the world

And lifts man’s spiral thought to lovelier dreams.