Light were the labour, and often-told the tale, to count the victories of beauty,—
Helen, and Judith, and Omphale, and Thais, many a trophied name.
At a glance the misanthrope was softened, and repented of his vows,
When Beauty asked, he gave, and banned her—with a blessing;
The cold ascetic loved the smile that lit his dismal cell,
And kindly stayed her step, and wept when she departed;
The bigot abbess felt her heart gush with a mother's feeling,
When looking on some lovely face beneath the cloister's shade;
Usury freed her without ransom; the buccaneer was gentle in her presence;
Madness kissed her on the cheek, and Idiotcy brightened at her coming: