His own fair countenance, his kingly forehead His tender smiles, Love's day-dawn on his Lips That put on such heavenly spiritual light At the same moment in his steadfast eyes/ Were virtue's native crest, the innocent Soul's Unconscious meek Self-heraldry -- to man Genial, and pleasant to his guardian angel -- He suffered, nor complain'd; tho' oft, with tears, He mourn'd the oppression of his helpless Brethren, -- And sometimes with a deeper, holier grief Mourn'd for the oppressor: but that in Sabbath Hours -- a solemn grief, That like a Cloud at sunset, Was but the veil of inward meditation, Pierc'd thro' And saturate with the intellectual rays, it soften'd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A SWEDISH GRAVEYARD by EMMA LAZARUS PHILIP, MY KING by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK THREE BLIND MICE by MOTHER GOOSE THE COMPLAINT OF THE FAIR ARMOURESS by FRANCOIS VILLON EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 33. LOVE KEEPS ALL THINGS IN ORDER by PHILIP AYRES EURYDICE by FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON THE EMBROIDERESS AT MIDNIGHT by MARY ANN BROWNE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 33 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |