The Sun has his spots, the Moon has her shadows, The Sea has his wrinkles, the Land has her warts; Sweet Faith has her doubts, and lovers their quarrels, And nothing is perfect in all its parts. How lovely is a garden when neglected! What could be uglier than a perfect face! Shall I then call my Love a perfect angel Sent down from Heaven to take a mortal's place? How could she wear and last this common life, Unless her charms had some alloy of evil? An Angel, no; but by Love's two extremes, Of ice and fire — @3'Come here, you little devil!'@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORNING IN CAMP by HERBERT BASHFORD THE SCARECROW by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE LULLABY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE PRINCESS: LULLABY by ALFRED TENNYSON INTIMATE VISION by JOSEPHINE BATES |