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Leonardo's 'Monna Lisa'
- MAKE thyself known, Sibyl, or let despair
- Of knowing thee be absolute; I wait
- Hour-long and waste a soul. What word of fate
- Hides 'twixt the lips which smile and still forbear?
- Secret perfection! Mystery too fair!
- Tangle the sense no more lest I should hate
- Thy delicate tyranny, the inviolate
- Poise of thy folded hands, thy fallen hair.
- Nay, nay,--I wrong thee with rough words; still be
- Serene, victorious, inaccessible;
- Still smile but speak not; lightest irony
- Lurk ever 'neath thine eyelids' shadow; still
- O'ertop our knowledge; Sphinx of Italy
- Allure us and reject us at thy will!
- Edward Dowden
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