Dear lady I do know, that beauty's cursed;
To draw unwanted eyes to bask that fair
And I proclaim the masses have their worst,
With me to draw by pupils, all that rare,
But if she were behind my eyes, she'd see;
A temple to a goddess most revered,
Where marble has such form, and formed by me
And echoes sweetly tones that love has eared.
Believe it true and caution whom does stare;
But one who loves to love, fixates on truth
That all this being is, is love to bear
And grant to beauty's form, an ever youth.
As I do breathe, I breathe to beauty's ode
If she could know, then beauty has bestowed.