If, in thy second state sublime, Thy ransom'd reason change replied With all the circle of the wise, The perfect flower of human time; And if thou cast thine eyes below, How dimly character'd and slight, How dwarf'd a growth of cold and night, How blanch'd with darkness must I grow! Yet turn thee to the doubtful shore, Where thy first form was made a man; I loved thee, Spirit, and love, nor can The soul of Shakespeare love thee more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAY AND DEATH by ROBERT BROWNING ONE WAY OF LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: A DRIFTER OFF TARENTUM by RUDYARD KIPLING HARLEM SHADOWS by CLAUDE MCKAY THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 90. 'RETRO ME, SATHANA!' by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI FANCY, FR. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ACROSS THE SEA by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |