Though Thou beest all that Active Love, Which heats those ravisht Soules above; And though all joyes spring from the glance Of Thy most winning countenance; Yet sowre and grim Thou'dst seem to me; If through my Christ I saw not Thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: ARCHIBALD LOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LEAVES FIRST by CARL PHILLIPS A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 47. THE CARPENTER'S SON by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN IN THIS AGE OF HARD TRYING, NONCHALANCE IS GOOD AND by MARIANNE MOORE SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 91 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO CHLOE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): MEDEA BETRAYED by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS |