Lady, I would not flatter thee—oh no!
For ’tis unkind to foster earth-born vanity,
And he doth err that wishes to bestow
An extra share of it on weak humanity.
Yet, on reflection, sure I do not know
That I should be suspected of insanity,
Were I to call thee—as I truly might—
Beautiful, aye, beautiful as a form of light.
Beautiful—and saying it, I tell no lie,
Though tried by Madam Opie’s strict ordeal—