YOU are deceiv'd: I sooner may, dull fair, Seat a dark Moor in Cassiopeia's Chair, Or on the glow-worm's useless light Bestow the watching flames of night, Or give the rose's breath To executed death, Ere the bright hue Of verse to you; It is just Heaven on beauty stamps a fame, And we, alas! its triumphs but proclaim. What chains but are too light for me, should I Say that Lucasta in strange arms could lie? Or that Castara were impure, Or Saccharissa's faith unsure; That Chloris' love, as hair, Embrac'd each en'my's air: That all their good Ran in their blood? 'Tis the same wrong th' unworthy to enthrone, As from her proper sphere t' have Virtue thrown. That strange force on the ignoble hath renown, As @3aurum fulminans@1 it blows Vice down; 'Twere better, heavy one, to crawl Forgot, than, raised, trod on fall: All your defections now Are not writ on your brow. Odes to faults give A shame must live. When a fat mist we view, we coughing run; But that once meteor drawn, all cry, Undone! How bright the fair Paulina did appear, When hid in jewels she did seem a star! But who could soberly behold A wicked owl in cloth of gold? Or the ridiculous ape In sacred Vesta's shape? So doth agree Just praise with thee; For since thy birth gave thee no beauty, know No poet's pencil must or can do so. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MUSICAL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SHERIDAN'S RIDE [DECEMBER 19, 1864] by THOMAS BUCHANAN READ AN EPISTLE TO J. BL-K-N, ESQ.: ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST by JOHN BYROM FIFTEEN AND FIFTY by ALICE CARY |