We speak of "truth" and "beauty" with a savant , knowing air. We are the keepers of the flame who formulate the prayers. We play with your emotions; we heighten every sense. We labor at this constantly with little recompense.
...but...today... today I saw her, and for words I'm at a loss. Like Saul approaching Tarsus; Like a second Pentecost. Her beauty knows no simile indeed , and it's a pity Only George Gordon, at his height, could , perhaps, describe her beauty. I saw her but a moments time and she's not mine to hold. but from that brief encounter I can now tell dross from Gold.
As the master said: SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meets in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellow'd to that tender light 5 Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.