WHEN Nature forg'd the fair unhappy mould, Wherein proud beauty took her matchless shape, She over-slipp'd her cunning and her skill, And aim'd too fair, but drew beyond the mark; For, thinking to have made a heavenly bliss, For wanton gods to dally with in heaven, And to have fram'd a precious gem for men, To solace all their dumpish thoughts with glee, She wrought a plague, a poison, and a hell: For gods, for men, thus no way wrought she well. Venus was fair, fair was the Queen of Love, Fairer than Pallas, or the wife of Jove; Yet did the giglot's beauty grieve the smith, For that she brav'd the creeple with a horn. Mars said, her beauty was the star of heaven, Yet did her beauty stain him with disgrace. Paris for fair gave her the golden ball, And bought his and his father's ruin so. Thus Nature making what should far excell, Lent gods and men a poison and a hell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLAD OF HELL by JOHN DAVIDSON THE NEED FOR MEN by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND LAMENT OF THE FRONTIER GUARD by LI PO THE MORAL FABLES: THE TALE OF THE COCK, AND THE JEWEL by AESOP TRANQUIL HABIT by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER POLYHYMNIA: L'ENVOY by WILLIAM BASSE KNAPWEED by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON |