As clouds lie in the west, My fairest pleasures rest In you, their element Of being. Loath to die, They ornament your sky, Amassed, magnificent. They shun the realms beyond. Are you not their fond, Fair dwelling by consent Of time? Why should they go And vanish quite, as though They were not all-content? My pleasures are not love, Else like the clouds above They swiftly would relent. They are mild beauty; dim Resistless thought; and whim, And idle blandishment. Love is a wilful power, More like the wind or shower In which the cloud is spent. My pleasures only screen The space of light serene In your deep firmament. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VOYAGE A L'INFINI by WALTER CONRAD ARENSBERG BY THE FIRESIDE by ROBERT BROWNING A PRAYER TO THE WIND by THOMAS CAREW HYMN TO GOD MY GOD, IN MY SICKNESS by JOHN DONNE THE SCHRECKHORN by THOMAS HARDY THE NATURAL FIRE by CLIFFORD ALLEN THE DEAD LARK by ALEXANDER ANDERSON LATIMER AND RIDLEY, BURNED AT THE STAKE IN OXFORD, 1555 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |