That she is beautiful is not delight, As some think mothers joy, by pride of her, To witness questing eyes caught prisoner And hear her praised the livelong dancing night; But the glad impulse that makes painters sight Bids me note her and grow the happier; And love that finds me as her worshipper Reveals me each best loveliness aright. Oh goddess head! Oh innocent brave eyes! Oh curved and parted lips where smiles are rare And sweetness ever! Oh smooth shadowy hair Gathered around the silence of her brow! Child, I'd needs love thy beauty stranger-wise: And oh the beauty of it, being thou! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MENDOCINO MEMORY by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOSEPH DIXON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ABU SALAMMAMM - A SONG OF EMPIRE by EZRA POUND GULF-WEED by CORNELIUS GEORGE FENNER HIS IMMORTALITY by THOMAS HARDY NOCTURNAL SKETCH; BLANK VERSE IN RHYME by THOMAS HOOD ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 3. TO THE CUCKOO by MARK AKENSIDE |