The Ragged Man

Do the uncomely desire the fair,
This with a wanting, fecund
With a kind of draw as like for like,
Or not as one with a peer?

Behold in man lay a common scourge,
A virulence shared in blood.
The excellence the eyes see it seeks,
A shadow led by the dirge.

For the lass in skirt has come to play,
Her dark hair one with the wind.
Motions she weaves, they play divers tricks,
The duped, in that way they stay.

Behold the man in his own esteem,
Foul he was, but now no more.
For by perceived ardor he revels,
Enfleshed in his arms a dream.

Has the uncomely now gained the fair,
In a twisting of nature?
It is no wonder the like for like,
But of what ilk, this affair?

Behold beyond the man walks away,
The maiden radiant in garb;
While he peers inward and sees himself,
The man, now, more uncomely.