You do not seem to realize that beauty is a liability
         rather than
An asset—that in view of the fact that spirit
         creates form—we are justified in supposing
  That you must have brains. For you, a symbol
         of the unit, stiff and sharp,
Conscious of surpassing—by dint of native superiority and
         liking for everything
Self—dependent, anything an
 
Ambitious civilization might produce: for you,
         unaided, to attempt through sheer
Reserve, to confuse presumptions resulting from
         observation, is idle. You cannot make us
Think you a delightful happen—so. But rose, if
         you are brilliant, it
  Is not because your petals are the without—which—nothing
         of pre—eminence. Would you not, minus
Thorns, be a what—is—this, a mere
 
Peculiarity. They are not proof against a worm, the
         elements, or mildew
But what about the predatory hand? What is brilliance
         without co—ordination? Guarding the
  Infinitesimal pieces of your mind, compelling
         audience to
The remark that it is better to be forgotten than to
         be remembered too violently,
Your thorns are the best part of you.

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