You best discern'd of my mind's inward eyes, And yet your graces outwardly divine, Whose dear remembrance in my bosom lies, Too rich a relic for so poor a shrine; You, in whom Nature chose herself to view When she her own perfection would admire, Bestowing all her excellence on you, At whose pure eyes Love lights his hallow'd fire; E'en as a man that in some trance hath seen More than his won'ring utt'rance can unfold, That, rapt in spirit, in better worlds hath been, So must your praise distractedly be told, Most of all short when I would show you most, In your perfections so much am I lost. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO BABY IN THE HOUSE by CLARA G. DOLLIVER WHEN JOHNNY COMES MARCHING HOME by PATRICK SARSFIELD GILMORE THE BUNCH OF GRAPES by GEORGE HERBERT SONNET: 31 by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY A MODEST WIT by SELLECK OSBORNE BALLADE OF BROKEN FLUTES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO THE LADY IN THE CHIMSETTE WITH BLACK BUTTONS by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS PLAYING IT SAFE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 12. TO SIR FRANCIS HENRY DRAKE, BARONET by MARK AKENSIDE |