She is the fulfillment of artistic prophecy
Come to this, raised on a plinth, for all to see.
Venus de Milo, perfectly rationalized,
And much more than this, woman naturalized:
For she is all women, finally in season,
The faultless head and breasts and pregnancy
Everything a man could wish for, and owes to,
Even Nelson on his column meekly stands to.
The lions, their symmetry of power set
She seems but mother to, and they to let;
The glowing fountains in their upward thrust
More joyful in her presence, heroic lust
Her silhouette transforms, her high head turned,
She is immeasurable, normal, what we have learned.