Part 6 / Book 2 — THE BEAUTIFUL DESCENDS NOT.
Reading edition
In Cyprus, looking on the lovely sky, Lone by the marge of music-haunted streams, A youthful poet pray'd: "Descend from high, Thou of whose face each youthful poet dreams. Once more, Urania, to the earth be given The beauty that makes beautiful the heaven." Swift to a silver cloudlet, floating o'er, A rushing Presence rapt him as he pray'd; What he beheld I know not, but once more The midnight heard him sighing to the shade, "Again, again unto the earth be given The beauty that makes beautiful the heaven." "In vain," a sweet voice answer'd from the star, "Her grace on thee Urania did bestow: Unworthy he the loftier realms afar, Who woos the gods above to earth below; Rapt to the Beautiful thy soul must be, And not the Beautiful debased to thee!"