All is vanity

Once on a dull end of rose’s hue, It mocked the sky, in a very mirrored sense, A sun-kissed sheen ran across the sea And further afield, unto the land…

All is not lost; in the blossoms there win, The sap flows over the hegemonic fields, So once more, let not the mind confuse And speak of reason, but there is greater chance.

We may behold within the mind’s glance, As shadows fall and truth may flourish, A light of purest essence, shining. For beauty, is transcendently well cried;

• Lord Byron