I know thou art a man, thou hast his mould; Thy wings are fancy and a poet's lie, Thy halo but the dimness of his eye, And thy fair chivalry a legend old. Yet I mistrust the truth, and partly hold Thou art a herald of the upper sky, Where all the truth yet lives that seemed to die, And love is never faint nor virtue cold. I still would see thee spotless, fervent, calm, With heaven in thine eyes, and with the mild White lily in one hand, in one the palm, Bringing the world that rapture undefiled Which Mary knew, when, answering with a psalm Thine Ave, she conceived her holy Child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LONELY HOUSE by EMILY DICKINSON THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS by THOMAS HOOD THE NUANCES OF MENDACITY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE HEALERS by LAURENCE BINYON POETIC STUFF by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP ADVICE TO MY YOUNG WIFE by MAXWELL BODENHEIM |