They paint in colors, dipped in liquid truth,
The brow of beauty and the lip of youth.
Thought, tame in prose in their enchanting line,
Is dressed in beauty and is half divine.
They wing love's arrows with consumate art,
And make the melting music of the heart.
Youth they instruct and tottering age sustain,
Virtue exalt and hideous voice restrain.
Inside this palace life is but a dream
Of beauty, flowing in a constant stream.