A LOVER is a slender, glowing urn On beauty's shrine, his heart is incense sweet, Which with his eye-lit torch young love doth burn; Then from its ardour cloudy ringlets fleet, That we call sighs, and they with perfume turn Upwards, his mistress' whisperings to meet. The breezy whispers and the sighs embrace, Like pink-wing'd clouds mixing above the hill, And from their lovely toyings spring a race Of tears, which saunter down in cheek-bank'd rill, Silvering with sparkling coil the fair one's face; Twin dew-drops which her startled senses spill From violet's eyes, that hide their tender hue Deep-caverned in a fringed lake of blue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: HERO AND LEANDER by JOHN DONNE IN THE SHADOWS: 19 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) TAKE HER, BREAK HER by ANACREON SUNSET IN THE DEVIL'S GLEN: COUNTY WICKLOW by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 36. ASH-SHAKIR by EDWIN ARNOLD STANZAS IN THE MEMORY OF EDWARD QUILLINAN, ESQ. by MATTHEW ARNOLD LARABELLE; CANTO FOURTH by LEVI BISHOP |