The modern Narcissus in mirrors refract
Beauty most base and contrived by society;
Depraved travesty, in vitreous cracked,
Vertiginous love from tenuous vanity.
Feminine love-hue, masked by feigned face;
Lust most officious that cascadeth down –
Perfumèd women, attired in lace –
Through populous glass-men and then to the ground.
Love is not love that hath beauty deceived,
Nor beauty to beauty that call itself art,
Yet beloved muses do poorly receive
The noble and amorous depths of Love’s heart:
Hear not what avaricious charlatans say,
For beauty is infinite where natural stay.