Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The House of Life. Sonnet 17. Beauty's Pageant

What dawn-pulse at the heart of heaven, or last
  Incarnate flower of culminating day, -
  What marshalled marvels on the skirts of May,
Or song full-quired, sweet June's encomiast;
What glory of chance by nature's hand amass'd
  Can vie with all those moods of varying grace
  Which o'er one loveliest woman's form and face
Within this hour, within this room, have pass'd?

Love's very vesture and elect disguise
  Was each fine movement, - wonder new-begot
  Of lily or swan or swan-stemmed galiot;
Joy to his sight who now the sadlier sighs,
Parted again; and sorrow yet for eyes
  Unborn, that read these words and saw her not.