Here shunning idleness at once and praise,
This radiant pile nine rural sisters[130] raise;
The glittering emblem of each spotless dame,
Clear as her soul, and shining as her frame;
Beauty which nature only can impart,
And such a polish as disgraces art;
But Fate disposed them in this humble sort,
And hid in deserts what would charm a court.
Lines On A Grotto, At Crux-easton, Hants
Alexander Pope
(1)
Poem topics: beauty, fate, nature, soul, raise, clear, humble, charm, shining, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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