The fairest things seem ever loneliest: <br />The whitest lily ever blooms alone, <br />And purest winds from widest seas are flown. <br />High on her utmost tower of the West <br />Sits Beauty, baffling an eternal quest; <br />From out her gates and oriels unknown <br />The murmurs of her citadels are blown <br />To blue horizons of the world's unrest. <br /> <br />We know that we shall seek her till we die, <br />And find her not at all, the fair and far: <br />Her pure domain is wider than the sky, <br />And never night revealed her whitest star; <br />Beyond the sea and sun her feet have trod; <br />Her vision is our memory of God.<br /><br />George Sterling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beauty-231/
