Текст оригинала на английском языке
The House of Life. Sonnet 18. Genius in Beauty
Beauty like hers is genius. Not the call Of Homer's or of Dante's heart sublime, -- Not Michael's hand furrowing the zones of time, -- Is more with compassed mysteries musical; Nay, not in Spring's Summer's sweet footfall More gathered gifts exuberant Life bequeaths Than doth this sovereign face, whose love-spell breathes Even from its shadowed contour on the wall. As many men are poets in their youth, But for one sweet-strung soul the wires prolong Even through all change the indomitable song; So in likewise the envenomed years, whose tooth Rends shallower grace with ruin void of truth, Upon this beauty's power shall wreak no wrong.
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