Beauty like hers is genius. Not the call <br />Of Homer's or of Dante's heart sublime,— <br />Not Michael's hand furrowing the zones of time,— <br />Is more with compassed mysteries musical; <br />Nay, not in Spring's or Summer's sweet footfall <br />More gathered gifts exuberant Life bequeaths <br />Than doth this sovereign face, whose love-spell breathes <br />Even from its shadowed contour on the wall. <br />As many men are poets in their youth, <br />But for one sweet-strung soul the wires prolong <br />Even through all change the indomitable song; <br />So in like wise the envenomed years, whose tooth <br />Rends shallower grace with ruin void of ruth, <br />Upon this beauty's power shall wreak no wrong.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xviii-genius-in-beauty/
