BRIGHTSOME Apollo in his richest pomp Was not like to the trammels of her hair; Her eyes, like Ariadne's sparkling stars, Shone from the ebon arches of her brows; Her face was like the blushing of the east When Titan charg'd the morning sun to rise; Her cheeks, rich strew'd with roses and with white, Did stain the glory of Anchises' love; Her silver teats did ebb and flow delight; Her neck column of polish'd ivory; Her breath was perfume made of violets And all this heaven was but Terentia. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEIST'S GRAVE by MATTHEW ARNOLD NOTHING TO WEAR' by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER EPIGRAM: PERJURY by ROBERT NUGENT SONNET: 116 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE A WORD TO THE WEST END by THOMAS ASHE INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 1 by THOMAS CAMPION |