Robert Seymour Bridges (Роберт Сеймур Бриджес)

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For beauty being the best of all we know
Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims
Of nature, and on joys whose earthly names
Were never told can form and sense bestow;
And man has sped his instinct to outgo
The step of science; and against her shames
Imagination stakes out heavenly claims,
Building a tower above the head of woe.
Nor is there fairer work for beauty found
Than that she win in nature her release
From all the woes that in the world abound;
Nay with his sorrow may his love increase,
If from man's greater need beauty redound,
And claim his tears for homage of his peace. 

1. Shorter Poems. Book IV. 25. “Say Who Is This with Silvered Hair”
2. Shorter Poems. Book IV. 7. “Gáy Róbin Is Seen No More”
3. Shorter Poems. Book I. 12. “Who Has Not Walked upon the Shore”
4. Shorter Poems. Book II. 5. “There Is a Hill Beside the Silver Thames”
5. Shorter Poems. Book III. 16. Song (I love my lady’s eyes)

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