(Expanded from an Epigram of Piron) STELLA, 'tis not your dainty head, Your artless look, I own; 'Tis not your dear coquettish tread, Or this, or that, alone; Nor is it all your gifts combined; 'Tis something in your face, -- The untranslated, undefined, Uncertainty of grace, That taught the Boy on Ida's hill To whom the meed was due; All three have equal charms -- but still This one I give it to! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMAGES: 4 by RICHARD ALDINGTON MOURNING WOMEN by MATHILDE BLIND THE JAZZ BABY by BERTON BRALEY ANTICIPATION by EMILY JANE BRONTE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 12 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING LINES UNDER THE PICTURE OF MISS BURNS by ROBERT BURNS THE END OF IT by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: THE WRITER TO HIS BOOK by THOMAS CAMPION |