Stella, while now, by honour's cruel might, I am from you, light of my life, misled, And that fair you, my sun, thus overspread With absence' veil, I live in sorrow's night; If this dark place yet show, like candle light, Some beauty's piece, as amber-coloured head, Milk hands, rose cheeks, or lips more sweet, more red, Or seeing jets, black, but in blackness bright: They please, I do confess, they please mine eyes. But why? Because of you they models be, Models such be wood-globes of glistering skies. Dear, therefore be not jealous over me; If you hear that they seem my heart to move, Not them, O no, but you in them I love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHADOW DANCE by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON TO MY MOTHER by EDGAR ALLAN POE UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 5. THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON A MODERN SAPPHO by MATTHEW ARNOLD A CHARACTER OF JOSEPH PRIESTLY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 33. RED DAWN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) MEDITATION by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE AN EPISTLE THROWN INTO A RIVER IN A BALL OF WAX by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |