CHARLES--and I say it wondering--thou must know That I, who once assumed a scornful air, And scoffed at Love, am fallen in his snare; (Full many an upright man has fallen so.) Yet think me not thus dazzled by the flow Of golden locks, or damask cheek; more rare The heartfelt beauties of my foreign fair, A mien majestic, with dark brows that show The tranquil lustre of a lofty mind; Words exquisite, of idioms more than one, And song, whose fascinating power might bind, And from her sphere draw down, the labouring moon; With such fire-darting eyes, that should I fill My ears with wax, she would enchant me still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON IN TIME OF 'THE BREAKING OF NATIONS' by THOMAS HARDY SONNET: 17 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE DOROTHY IN THE GARRET by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 1 by LUCY AIKEN |