There is a love so passionate it tears The heart. We feel its pangs and wonder why— When gazing at a flaming sunset sky, Or woods in autumn, or a sea that snares The moon and stars, or alabaster layers Of crusted pearl (that magic means whereby A dream-world rises)—we must ever sigh With pain aroused by beauty Nature wears. But why this blissful torment? Can it be That those who worship beauty grow aware Of that which mortal was not meant to see; The splendor flesh was never framed to share? Is pain a warning that our eyes are wide To loveliness that we should be denied? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE VILLAGE ATHEIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ON THE RECEIPT OF MY MOTHER'S PICTURE [OUT OF NORFOLK] by WILLIAM COWPER CHANSON INNOCENTE: 2, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS REBEL COLOR-BEARERS AT SHILOH by HERMAN MELVILLE TO GOD AND IRELAND TRUE by ELLEN O'LEARY SONG (10) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO THE ONE OF FICTIVE MUSIC by WALLACE STEVENS LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE by ALFRED TENNYSON BARBARA FRIETCHIE [SEPTEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |