Ghost of Cleopatra ‘neath the Nile
A thousand years had haunted twice before
In hearing of fresh fame sh[ad]e knew for sure
Life witness bears to one whose peerless smile
Has shown the world that Beauty was on trial,
Awaiting its high priestess. Now, no more
Rude Homer's lyre will be respected for
Creating Circe, Helen, Attic guile.
Unique She reigns, far from crowds which defile.
So as, compared to her, each Muse is poor,
Gods and heroes fade, swift shown the door!
All aim their ends with her's to reconcile.
In one alone all qualities combine,
Link in a heart of gold none can refine.
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