It knew no Medicine

559 It knew no Medicine— It was not Sickness—then— Nor any need of Surgery— And therefore—'twas not Pain— It moved away the Cheeks— A Dimple at a time— And left the Profile—plainer— And in the place of Bloom It left the little Tint That never had a Name— You've seen it on a Cast's face— Was Paradise—to blame— If momently ajar— Temerity—drew near— And sickened—ever afterward For Somewhat that it saw?