DEAR, if I with guile would gild a true intent Heaping flatt'ries that in heart were never meant: Easily could I then obtain What now in vain I force; Falsehood much doth gain, Truth yet holds the better course. Love forbid that through dissembling I should thrive, Or in praising you myself of truth deprive! Let not your high thoughts debase A simple truth in me: Great is Beauty's grace, Truth is yet as fair as she! Praise is but the wind of pride, if it exceeds; Wealth, prized in itself, no outward value needs. Fair you are, and passing fair; You know it, and 'tis true: Yet let none despair But to find as fair as you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINCOLN by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER UPON PRUE, HIS MAID by ROBERT HERRICK CENTENNIAL MEDITATION OF COLUMBIA by SIDNEY LANIER PORTRAIT BY A NEIGHBOR by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY PETER STUYVESANT'S NEW YEAR'S CALL, 1 JAN. 1661 by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN |