'Tis the beauty which drives men mad,
and which makes men sane;
for which wars are fought,
for which peace is gained.

'Tis the loveliness for which the gods are appeased,
and by which the goddesses die:
their beauty smitten
by a glint of her eye.

'Tis her radiance which inspires mankind,
lures the poets to dream;
tempts the minstrels to play
and the choirs to sing.

'Tis her spirit that causes the eagle to soar,
breaks the burdensome chain;
makes the dark night to flee,
the cold winter to wane.

'Tis her smile that melts the hardened heart,
dries the tears of the weeping child;
hushes the tumultuous mind
and tames the beast wild.

'Tis her being by which grace is measured,
and love is defined;
by which my life has been touched,
bettered, and refined.

Salute', mademoiselle...abler pens than mine still could not express your loveliness!