I WHAT do I here! what's beauty? 'las, How doth it pass! As flowers, as soon as smelled at, Evaporate, Even so this shadow, ere our eyes Can view it, flies. II What's colour? 'las! the sullen Night Can it affright: A rose can more vermilion speak, Than any cheek; A richer white on lilies stands, Than any hands. III Then what's that worth, when any flower Is worth far more? How constant's that, which needs must die, When day doth fly? Glow-worms can lend some petty light To gloomy Night. IV And what's proportion? we descry That in a fly. And what's a lip! 'tis in the test, Red clay at best. And what's an eye? an eaglet's are More strong by far. V Who can that specious nothing heed Which flies exceed? Who would his frequent kisses lay On painted clay? Wh'ould not, if eyes affection move, Young eaglets love? VI Is Beauty thus? then who would lie Love-sick and die? And's wretched self annihilate, For knows not what? And with such sweat and care invade A very shade? VII Even he, that knows not to possess True happiness, But has some strong desires to try What's misery, And longs for tears; oh! He will. prove One fit for love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POPLAR by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SONG TOURNAMENT: NEW STYLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TO MRS. PRIESTLEY, WITH SOME DRAWINGS OF BIRDS AND INSECTS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A HYMN OF FORM by GORDON BOTTOMLEY CIPHERS by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: DANIEL BARTOLI by ROBERT BROWNING |