Page:Poems and lyrics of the joy of earth.djvu/167

Rh False ends as false began, madam, be sure! What lure there is the pure cause purifies! Who purifies the victim of the lure? That soul which bids us our high light pursue. Some heights are measured down: the wary wise
 * Shun Reason in the masque with you!

Sir, for the friend you bring us, take our thanks. Yes, Beauty was of old this barren goal; A thing with claws; and brute-like in her pranks! But could she give more loyal guarantee Than wooing wisdom, that in her a soul
 * Has risen? Adieu: content are we!