SAY, why on your hair yet stays That snow resembling white; Since the sun's less powerful rays Thaw'd that which fell last night? Sure to hinder those extremes Of love they might bestow; Art hath hid your golden beams Within a fleece of snow. Yet as on a cloth of gold, With silver flowers wrought o'er, We do now and then behold A radiant wire or more: So sometimes the amorous air Doth with your fair locks play, And unclouds a golden hair; And then breaks forth the day. On your cheeks the rosy morn We plainly then descry; And a thousand Cupids born, And playing in each eye. Now we all are at a stay, And know not where to turn us; If we wish that snow away, Those glorious beams would burn us. If it should not fall amain, And cloud your loveful eyes, Each gentle heart would soon be slain, And made their sacrifice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE PIOUS MEMORY OF THE YOUNG LADY MRS. ANNE KILLIGREW by JOHN DRYDEN A SNOW-STORM; SCENE IN A VERMONT WINTER by CHARLES GAMAGE EASTMAN SONNET: TO SLEEP by JOHN KEATS REMEMBERED MUSIC; A FRAGMENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL DOCTOR FELL by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS THE WINDING ROAD by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN |