Thou mightier than Manoah's son, whence is thy great strength, And wherein the secret of thy craft, O charmer charming wisely?-- For thou art strong in weakness, and in artlessness well skilled, Constant in the multitude of change, and simple amidst intricate complexity. Folly's shallow lip can ask the deepest question, And many wise in many words should answer, what is beauty?-- Who shall separate the hues that flicker on a dying dolphin, Or analyse the jewelled lights that deck the peacock's train, Or shrewdly mix upon a palette the tints of an iridescent spar, Or set in rank the wandering shades about a watered silk? For beauty is intangible, vague, ill to be defined; She hath the coat of a chameleon, changing while we watch it. Strangely woven is the web, disorderly yet harmonious, A glistering robe of mingled mesh, that may not be unravelled. It is shot with heaven's blue, the soul of summer skies, And twisted strings of light, the mind of noonday suns, And ruddy gleams of life, that roll along the veins, A coat of many colours, running curiously together. There is threefold beauty for man; twofold beauty for the animal; And the beauty of inanimates is single: body, temper, spirit. Multiplied in endless combination, issue the changeable results; Each class verging on the other twain, with imperceptible gradation; And every individual in each having his propriety of difference, So that the meanest of creation bringeth in a tribute of the beautiful. Yea, from the worst in favour shineth out a fitness of design, The patent mark of beauty, its Maker's name imprest. For the great Creator's seal is set to all His works; Its quarterings are Attributes of praise, and all the shield is Beauty: So, that heraldic blazon is Creation's common signet; And the universal family of life goeth in the colours of its Lord: But each one, as a several son, shall bear those arms with a difference; Beauty, various in phase, and similar in seeming oppositions. The coins of old Rome were struck with a diversity for each, Barely two be found alike, in every Cæsar's image: So, note thou the seals, ranged round the charters of the Universe, The finger of God is the stamp upon them all, but each hath its separate variety. Beauty, theme of innocence, how may guilt discourse thee? Let holy angels sing thy praise, for man hath marred thy visage. Still the maimed torso of a Theseus can gladden taste with its proportions; Though sin hath shattered every limb, how comely are the fragments! And music leaveth on the ear a memory of sweet sounds; And broken arches charm the sight with hints of fair completeness. So, while humbled at the ruin, be thou grateful for the relics; Go forth, and look on all around with kind uncaptious eye: Freely let us wander through these unfrequented ways, And talk of glorious beauty, filling all the world.