Out of the dust the queen of roses springs; The brackish depths of the blown waters bear Blossoms of foam; the common mist and air Weave Vesper's holy, pity-laden wings. So from sad, mortal, and unhallowed things Bud stars that in their crowns the angels wear; And worship of the infinitely fair Flows from thine eyes, as wise Petrarca sings: "Hence comes the understanding of love's scope, That, seeking thee, to perfect good aspires, Accounting little what all flesh desires; And hence the spirit's happy pinions ope In flight impetuous to the heaven's choirs: Wherefore I walk already proud in hope." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION FOR A PLOT OF GROUND by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE BARBER'S by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE DESERTED PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET TO MRS. REYNOLD'S CAT by JOHN KEATS TO HELEN (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE |