Earth was not Earth before her sons appeared, <br />Nor Beauty Beauty ere young Love was born: <br />And thou when I lay hidden wast as morn <br />At city-windows, touching eyelids bleared; <br />To none by her fresh wingedness endeared; <br />Unwelcome unto revellers outworn. <br />I the last echoes of Diana's horn <br />In woodland heard, and saw thee come, and cheered. <br />No longer wast thou then mere light, fair soul! <br />And more than simple duty moved thy feet. <br />New colours rose in thee, from fear, from shame, <br />From hope, effused: though not less pure a scroll <br />May men read on the heart I taught to beat: <br />That change in thee, if not thyself, I claim.<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/appreciation-19/
