The Poetry Corner

Sing Not Of Beauty.

By Freeman Edwin Miller

Sing not of beauty's grace to me; Its very name a story tells Of doubly dark inconstancy, Love falser than a hundred hells. Its face is often but a screen To hide a devil's heart of guile, Of thoughts and deeds of shameful mien, By winning looks of heartless wile. Its laughing smile is but the gleam That springs from dross of foulest make; It stirs a sweet but idle dream, Then leaves the trusting heart to break. Sing not of beauty's grace to me; I can not bear to hear the name; For, oh! Too oft in it I see A soul of falsehood and of shame!