O glorious marble statue,
What gain I looking at you?
Your beauty is so old,
You are a form so cold
I can not understand you
Nor feel for him who planned you.
I easier lessons seek
Than those in chiseled Greek.
I turn to you my fragrant;
Bedewed and straggling vagrant,
You are a simple flower,
And scarce live out the hour
Here in the garden by-way
(That still is Nature’s highway!)
Yet utter from the grass
Lessons from Phidias!