Beauty. Poem by William Billington

LET us sing the praise of Beauty,
For the earth is beautiful,
And the stars are full of beauty
And the skies of stars are full.
As the Day treads out the Darkness,
In the earth's diurnal round,
So the tame is trodden underfoot
While Beauty's brow is bound:
And still Life's river rushes on,
And still the world goes round,
And Homeliness still hides her head,
And ever is Beauty crowned.

The beautiful in action,
And the beautiful in speech
Tread Virtue's path to Glory's goal,
For Beauty reigns in each.
'Tis thus the bard his garland gains,
Thus heroes are renowned,
For the beauties both of thought and deed
To Virtue's praise redound:
And still the stream of Time rolls by,
And still the world goes round,
And aye the Homely hides her head,
And ever is Beauty crowned.