From nature horns the bulls derive
The horse his feet which never tire
She to the hare did swiftness give
To lions, their courageous fire
Their wings for flight to birds she gave
To fish their fins which cut the wave
Their prudence last bestowed on men
For woman left what present then?
Beauty — more sure than spear or shield
Which they (resistless armour) wield
It triumphs over fire and steel
And nothing can resist a belle.