I love all beauteous things, I seek and adore them; God hath no better praise, And man in his hasty days Is honoured for them. I too will something make And joy in the making; Although to-morrow it seem Like the empty words of a dream Remembered on waking. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO EXEMPTION FOR TOURISTS by KAREN SWENSON TO MY GRANDMOTHER; SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE BY MR. ROMNEY by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON PUCK AND THE FAIRY, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE LAMP OF HERO by LOUISE VICTORINE ACKERMANN SONG FOR THE LONDON VOLUNTEERS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |