WHO is she coming, whom all gaze upon, Who makes the air all tremulous with light, And at whose side is Love himself? that none Dare speak, but each man's sighs are infinite. Ah me! how she looks round from left to right, Let Love discourse: I may not speak thereon. Lady she seems of such high benison As makes all others graceless in men's right. The honour which is hers cannot be said; To whom are subject all things virtuous, While all things beauteous own her deity. Ne'er was the mind of man so nobly led, Nor yet was such redemption granted us That we should ever know her perfectly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADEIRA FROM THE SEA by SARA TEASDALE IN A MYRTLE SHADE by WILLIAM BLAKE A PASTORAL DIALOGUE: SHEPHERD, NYMPH, CHORUS by THOMAS CAREW THE SHADED WATER by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS ON HEARING THAT THE STUDENTS OF OUR NEW UNIVERSITY JOINED AGITATION .. by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ROBIN REDBREAST by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG |