YES, I will blame thy very height of heart, I will conjure thee to remember still That things above us are not less apart, And mountains nearest to the sun most chill! Well hadst thou held sublime and separate rank, Martyr or heroine of romantic times, When Woman's life was one poor cloudy blank, Lit by rare-gleaming virtues, loves, and crimes. But now that every day for thee and me Has its own being of delight and woe, Come down, bright star! from thy perennial vault, My earthly path's companion-light to be; And I will love thee more for every fault Than for perfections that the angels show. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GETHSEMANE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: IRMA LEESE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HITS AND RUNS by CARL SANDBURG ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC by JOHN DRYDEN BEETHOVEN'S THIRD SYMPHONY by RICHARD HOVEY |