This swift overture that beauty plays Upon the nerves So expands the spirit It cannot be wisdom To ignore or fear it; The keen expectancy It wakes in every sense Is subtle recompense -- To have known Beauty close is to have grown; Better from the musicale in sorrow, Its warm overtones A token for tomorrow, Than to cold wisdom Succumb Inviolate and numb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD TRAILS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A LITTLE WHILE by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR TO DOCTOR EMPIRIC by BEN JONSON THE DIRGE [FOR FIDELE], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ENGLAND IN 1819 by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE DOUBLE-HEADED SNAKE OF NEWBURY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE ASSUMPTION by JOHN BEAUMONT THE IMPROVISATORE: RODOLPH THE WILD by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |