Once seen, immortal, seen but; in a dream,
Unveiling that: white swiftness to the feet,
With pride of maiden shame,
I have beheld the youth of Beauty gleam,
August, and passionately sweet,
And shining as clear flame.
There is a wonder in all beauty's youth,
And I have sought but youth in beauty; now
I know, with altered soul,
I have but loved some hand, some cheek, some mouth,
And circumscribed with some white brow
The uncapturable whole.
This is the face that makes the old world young,
For this the world has withered in a kiss
Of so consuming fire;
This is the song that poets have all sung,
The lover's first-born prayer, and this
The saint's last-slain desire.
