Alone it stands in Poesy's fair land, A temple by the muses set apart; A perfect structure of consummate art, By artists builded and by genius planned. Beyond the reach of the apprentice hand, Beyond the ken of the untutored heart, Like a fine carving in a common mart, Only the favored few will understand. A @3chef-d'oeuvre@1 toiled over with great care, Yet which the unseeing careless crowd goes by, A plainly set, but well-cut solitaire, An ancient bit of pottery, too rare To please or hold aught save the special eye, These only with the sonnet can compare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: 'EQUALITY OF SACRIFICE' by RUDYARD KIPLING TO CONSTANTIA, SINGING (1) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY A RECEIPT FOR WRITING A NOVEL by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK SUNRISE AND SUNSET: 2. SUNSET by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) FUNERAL by ETHEL SKIPTON BARRINGER THE AWAKENING OF THE TREES by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE ORGANIST IN HEAVEN (SAMUEL SEBASTIAN WESLEY) by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |