Be this Philander's praise, -- a well-tuned mind, Lofty as man, and more than woman kind; A virgin soul which, spotless yet and bright, Keeps all the lustre of its native white. Virtue in him from no cold precept flow'd, But with a vigorous, genuine ardour glow'd; So pure his feelings and his sense so strong, Seldom his head, his heart was never wrong; Gentle to others, to himself severe, And mild from pity only, not from fear. Tender yet firm, and prudent without art, The sweetest manners and the gentlest heart. If in so fair a mind there reign'd a fault, 'T was sensibility too finely wrought, Too quickly roused, too exquisite for peace, Too deeply thoughtful for unmingled ease. His griefs were like his joys, too far refined To reach the dull or touch the selfish mind; Yet the pure sorrows that on virtue grow, Taste of the sacred spring from which they flow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF SHERMAN'S ARMY by CHARLES GRAHAM HALPINE SONNET (3) by CHARLES HAMILTON SORLEY A BALLAD OF DEATH by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 124 by ALFRED TENNYSON FIFTY FAGGOTS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE; UPON RSTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH EJACULATORY PRAYER by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |