Classic Poem

Laideur et Beaute

Too great her beauty! 'tis o'erwhelming;
Beneath that mask there's such dissembling:
Yes, I would have her ugly — quite —
I'd have her — yes, a perfect fright
Love her I must in beauty's bloom —
O Heaven, thy wondrous gift resume!
Even from below assistance would I claim;
So she were ugly, and my love the same

Lo! Satan at the word I see —
The sire of ugliness is he:
" Come, come, " he cries, " I'll hideous make her;
Thy fiercest rivals shall forsake her:
Changes I'm rather fond of ringing —
But here thy fair one comes, and singing!
Roses, decay! pearls, drop from out your frame!
She's ugly now, and still thy love's the same! "

" I ugly! " thunderstruck she cries,
And promptly to a mirror flies:
At first she doubts — at last, o'ercome
With terror and despair, is dumb
" I've heard thee swear I was thine all, "
Quoth I, as at her feet I fall:
" To me alone he would devote thy flame;
If uglier still, I'd love thee just the same "

Her eyes bedimmed in tear-drops melt:
What pity for her grief I felt!
" Ah! give her back her charms so winning! "
" So be it, " answers Satan, grinning.
At once, like morning freshly breaking,
I saw fresh beauties in her waking;
More striking still her loveliness became,
More striking still, and still my love the same.

Quick at the mirror her alarms
She quiets — safe are all her charms —
Though on her cheeks some tears I spy,
Grumbling aside, she wipes them dry:
And then, as Satan flits away,
The traitress, too, but stops to say,
" Since Heaven gives beauty, to love him were shame,
Who, fair or foul, still loves us just the same. "