They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow, They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence. The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATE (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SORROW SINGERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE DAY OF THE DEAD SOLDIERS; MARY 30, 1869 by EMMA LAZARUS SONG FOR A VIOLA D'AMORE by AMY LOWELL NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |