On paradise and prodigies—
Charms, such as Nature once creates,
Then breaks the Mould (the Lover states).
But this, dear Joseph, was a Face
I could not from my fancy chase,
Was more than I had dreamed, was more }
Than Fancy drew for me before, }
And bade me my own Work adore. }
But let me not on Beauty dwell: 120
The trace became indelible.”