Shapes of Clay

When, long ago, the young world circling flew

Through wider reaches of a richer blue,

New-eyed, the men and maids saw, manifest,

The thoughts untold in one another's breast:

Each wish displayed, and every passion learned—

A look revealed them as a look discerned.

But sating Time with clouds o'ercast their eyes;

Desire was hidden, and the lips framed lies.

A goddess then, emerging from the dust,

Fair Virtue rose, the daughter of Distrust.