tell me if this is all true

The Artist

Why do you subdue yourself in golds and purples?   
Why do you dim yourself with folded silks?
Do you not see that I can buy brocades in any draper’s shop,   
And that I am choked in the twilight of all these colors.
How pale you would be, and startling—  
How quiet;
But your curves would spring upward   
Like a clear jet of flung water,
You would quiver like a shot-up spray of water,   
You would waver, and relapse, and tremble.   
And I too should tremble,
Watching. 

Murex-dyes and tinsel—
And yet I think I could bear your beauty unshaded.

 Amy Lowell