When my lady goeth fairly, And her countenance is rarely Lighted by the things that please her, Mien and happy mood according Are themselves the sweet rewarding Of the kindling eye that sees her. But when her course is out of measure, Or some stirring of displeasure Tints her cheeks with hues that never Fell on canvas, when from darkling, Troubled brows her eyes are sparkling, She is lovelier than ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MANHATTAN, 1609 by EDWIN MARKHAM THADDEUS STEVENS by PHOEBE CARY AFTER THE QUARREL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A PATCH OF OLD SNOW by ROBERT FROST ECHO AND THE FERRY by JEAN INGELOW SONNET: 25 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |