Beauty Blues

I bewailed long and bitterly this miserable state of mine; my unsettled spirits were already weary of futile thought, and I of being nourished by a false and feigned pleasure, albeit one with Polia as object. She, without a doubt, was not mortal but rather divine -- she whose holy image was deeply impressed within me, and dwelt carved into my innermost parts.

... O high bright thundering Jupiter, shall I call it happy, miraculous, or terrible, this unheard-of vision whose memory makes every atom of my being burn and tremble?

-- Hypnerotomachia Poliphila, transl. Godwin