Modern Beauty

I AM the torch, she saith, and what to me

If the moth die of me? I am the flame

Of Beauty, and I burn that all may see

Beauty, and I have neither joy nor shame,

But live with that clear light of perfect fire

Which is to men the death of their desire.

I am Yseult and Helen, I have seen

Troy burn, and the most loving knight lie dead.

The world has been my mirror, time has been

My breath upon the glass; and men have said,

Age after age, in rapture and despair,

Love’s poor few words, before my image there.

I live, and am immortal; in my eyes

The sorrow of the world, and on my lips

The joy of life, mingle to make me wise;

Yet now the day is darkened with eclipse:

Who is there still lives for beauty? Still am I

The torch, but where’s the moth that still dares die?