ALL beautiful things bring sadness, nor alone Music, whereof that wisest poet spake; Because in us keen longings they awake After the good for which we pine and groan, From which exil'd we make continual moan, Till once again we may our spirits slake At those clear streams, which man did first forsake, When he would dig for fountains of his own. All beauty makes us sad, yet not in vain: For who would be ungracious to refuse, Or not to use, this sadness without pain, Whether it flows upon us from the hues Of sunset, from the time of stars and dews, From the clear sky, or waters pure of stain? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK FINGER by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE SHE CAME AND WENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AN UNINSCRIBED MONUMENT - BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS by HERMAN MELVILLE MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD HER FIRST-BORN by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER THE SINGERS OF DELLA ROBBIA by ALFRED BARRETT |