The Magic of Beauty

An Imperfection as Perfection's guest,
Gives greater joy than charms immaculate —
And tawny moles upon a woman's breast,
Grow very jewels in their fair estate.
So is it where the heart's conceptions wait
On Beauty as her lacquey — up we climb,
And from the very sun on heaven's own gate
Snatch a rich jewel gracing common time,
Making earth heaven in our fancy's dream,
And woman as an idol in esteem,
Fairest companion of fair thoughts, akin
To grace's perfectness in heaven's own grace.
To worship such therefore can be no sin,
If heaven's own copy lives in Beauty's face.