Beauty imposes reverence in the Spring, <br />Grave as the urge within the honeybuds, <br />It wounds us as we sing. <br /> <br />Beauty is joy that stays not overlong. <br />Clad in the magic of sincerities, <br />It rides up in a song. <br /> <br />Beauty imposes chastenings on the heart, <br />Grave as the birds in last solemnities <br />Assembling to depart. <br /> <br /><br /><br />John Shaw Neilson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beauty-imposes/
