Fayre is my love, when her fayre golden heares With the loose wynd ye waving chance to marke: Fayre, when the rose in her red cheekes appeares, Or in her eyes the fyre of love does sparke: Fayre, when her brest, lyke a rich laden barke With pretious merchandize, she forth doth lay: Fayre, when that cloud of pryde, which oft doth dark Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away. But fayrest she, when so she doth display The gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight, Throgh which her words so wise do make their way, To beare the message of her gentle spright. The rest be works of Natures wonderment, But this the worke of harts astonishment. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALLAD OF THE OYSTERMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES SUMMER. THE SECOND PASTORAL, OR ALEXIS by ALEXANDER POPE OF A CONTENTED MIND [OR, SPIRIT] by THOMAS VAUX AUTUMN WOODS by ANNA M. ACKERMANN PREFACE TO ERINNA'S POEMS by ANTIPATER OF SIDON THE TULIP AND THE LILY, SELECTION by JAMES BARCLAY PSALM 39. DIXI CUSTODIAM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (1) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |