Thebeautyoflife

　　Whereshallyouseekbeauty,andhowshallyoufindherunlesssheherselfbeyourwayandyourguide?

　　Andhowshallyouspeakofherexceptshebetheweaverofyourspeech?

　　Theaggrievedandtheinjuredsay,"Beautyiskindandgentle.Likeayoungmotherhalf-shyofherowngloryshewalksamongus."

　　Andthepassionatesay,"Nay,beautyisathingofmightanddread.

　　Likethetempestsheshakestheearthbeneathusandtheskyaboveus."

　　Thetiredandthewearysay,"beautyisofsoftwhisperings.Shespeaksinourspirit.

　　Hervoiceyieldstooursilenceslikeafaintlightthatquiversinfearoftheshadow."

　　Buttherestlesssay,"Wehaveheardhershoutingamongthemountains,

　　Andwithhercriescamethesoundofhoofs,andthebeatingofwingsandtheroaringoflions."

　　Atnightthewatchmenofthecitysay,"Beautyshallrisewiththedawnfromtheeast."

　　Andatnoontidethetoilersandthewayfarerssay,"wehaveseenherleaningovertheearthfromthewindowsofthesunset."

　　Inwintersaythesnow-bound,"Sheshallcomewiththespringleapinguponthehills."

　　Andinthesummerheatthereaperssay,"Wehaveseenherdancingwiththeautumnleaves,andwesawadriftofsnowinherhair."

　　Allthesethingshaveyousaidofbeauty.

　　Yetintruthyouspokenotofherbutofneedsunsatisfied,

　　Andbeautyisnotaneedbutanecstasy.

　　Itisnotamouththirstingnoranemptyhandstretchedforth,

　　Butratheraheartenflamedandasoulenchanted.

　　Itisnottheimageyouwouldseenorthesongyouwouldhear,

　　Butratheranimageyouseethoughyoucloseyoureyesandasongyouhearthoughyoushutyourears.

　　Itisnotthesapwithinthefurrowedbark,norawingattachedtoaclaw,

　　Butratheragardenforeverinbloomandaflockofangelsforeverinflight.