To her the sweetest, fairest, worthiest one, Who the inspirer is of my new praise, Whom lately once, one Autumn afternoon, I walked with nor told aught a lover says, And yet who knows I love her in all ways A maiden dreams: the suppliant at her throne, The counsellor of strength, the lord of lays Loyal to chastity and her alone, These rhymes I dedicate. Oh, if there be Still in this world of vanished creeds and kings Some faith in royal blood and right divine, Some lingering reverence paid to majesty, Here seek it and here find it, for it clings To each hushed verse like incense to a shrine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHTMARE, FR. IOLANTHE by WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT IT IS FINISHED' by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AMORETTI: 15 by EDMUND SPENSER SUMMER NIGHT, RIVERSIDE by SARA TEASDALE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 43 by ALFRED TENNYSON |