TUNE on, my pipe, the praises of my love, And, midst thy oaten harmony, recount How fair she is that makes thy music mount, And every string of thy heart's harp to move. Shall I compare her form unto the sphere Whence sun-bright Venus vaunts her silver shine? Ah, more than that by just compare is thine, Whose crystal looks the cloudy heavens do clear! How oft have I descending Titan seen His burning locks couch in the sea-queen's lap, And beauteous Thetis his red body wrap In watery robes, as he her lord had been! Whenas my nymph, impatient of the night, Bade bright Astræus with his train give place, Whiles she led forth the day with her fair face, And lent each star a more than Delian light. Not Jove or Nature, should they both agree To make a woman of the firmament, Of his mix'd purity could not invent A sky-born form so beautiful as she. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TREKKING THE HILLS OF NORTHERN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON SECRECY PROTESTED by THOMAS CAREW ANTHEM FOR DOOMED YOUTH by WILFRED OWEN THE BELLE OF THE BALL by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED WITH A GUITAR, TO JANE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY A SONG FOR THE SINGLE TABLE ON NEW YEAR'S DAY by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST |