Wheresoever beauty flies

Wheresoever beauty flies,
Follow her on eager wings
Beauteous wild imaginings.

Wheresoever she may tread,
Lovely vivid flowers arise,
Springing swift as thoughts unsaid.

Living beauty, more than wise,
Fair art thou to living eyes,
Though less fair than is the dead
Myrtle-wreath that more we prize;

Relic of the one dear head
That for each it garlanded.

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