Beauty - Charles Baudelair

I am as lovely as a dream in stone; My breast on which each finds his death in turn Inspires the poet with a love as lone As everlasting clay, and as taciturn. Swan-white of heart, as sphinx no mortal knows, My throne is in the heaven's azure deep; I hate all movement that disturbs my pose; I smile not ever, neither do I weep. Before my monumental attitudes, Taken from the proudest plastic arts, My poets pray in austere studious moods, For I, to fold enchantment round their hearts, Have pools of light where beauty flames and dies, The placid mirrors of my luminous eyes. Charles Baudelaire Special thanks  too lula for telling my about this great poet. idk how i missed him!