Be it said to each beauty with pained soul,
That seeks to hide all evidence therein,
Where the worldly divide achieves its goal,
To sanction the envied populace wherein.
Beauty plays not jealousy’s fool shaken;
Nor doth envy give power to build mountain,
For righteous ‘tis such giftedness given,
And lovely ‘tis the e’er flowing fountain.
Gem within, shines without, as star fills night,
And in due season turns the tides of life,
Worthy ‘tis the Sun in glorious light
Flower blooming, denying error’d strife.
Truth proves ever-fixed, never-ending love;
Beauty rare, like air, ‘tis sent from above.