(where a picture of the Crucifixion hung in the Museum above a bust of Antinous) I see thy likeness in all beauteous things, So much are beauty and thy likeness one: Thee in the painted death of Mary's Son, Thee in the marble loves of pagan kings. Each day, each hour, its drop of trouble brings To swell the flood of sorrows long since done, Till down Earth's cheek the loosened waters run, Darkly foregathered in her frozen springs. What wealth of tears were this, to weep today That he's a god who was Antinous? Why mourn for Jesus? Christ remains to us. Cruel perfection! Every lure is thine, Ours every grief; till love shall pass away That made us wretched all, and thee divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: PROEM by ALFRED TENNYSON SANCHO SANCHEZ by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE TEARS OF A PAINTER by VINCENT BOURNE AN EPITAPH (AFTER THE GREEK EPIGRAMS) by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB EARTH AND HER PRAISERS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |