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Perch’d on wings of claim,

A well nurtured praise, to Beauty, he profess’d

To whom he forfeited his presence, his illustrious gaze

Ah! But She with him was not pleased

For in his worthless mind, does reason reign?

Nay, the pen and the scroll are not his ways

Lo! May life be a dear with this lost wanderer,

For He is charm’d by but Beauty’s trifling air,

While She is condemn’d to hear in his vacant stare

Every Man’s stupidity and their crazed flare



And so Beauty to him said in Her defiant stare:

"My eyes have been graced by many suitors with unmatched Beauty

They have been begged by those with unbounded wealth

And though, many were but refined in the art of kindness

None could command My Love, None could command My Respect

Dear Lost Soul, I am not smitten by what I see

Nor Taken by the sweetness of what I hear!

Challenge my knowledge, Teach my genius and Seduce the mind I have well raised

And Ye shall win My whole heart with dizzy delight!"