Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO ONE BLACK AND NOT VERY HANDSOME, WHO EXPECTED COMMENDATION, by EDWARD HERBERT Poet's Biography First Line: What though your eyes be stars, your hair be night Last Line: Or leave thee with the praise of being chaste. Alternate Author Name(s): Cherbury, 1st Baron Herbert Of; Herbert Of Cherbury, Edward Herbert, 1st Baron; Herbert Of Cherbury, Lord | ||||||||
WHAT though your eyes be stars, your hair be night, And all that beauty which adorns your face Yield in effect but such a sullen light It hardly serves for to set off that grace Which every shadow yieldeth in his place, Yet more than any other you delight. For since I love not with mine eyes but heart, Your red or white so little could incline, Whether it came from nature or from art, I should not think it either yours or mine, As that which doth but with the skin confine, And with the light that gave it first depart. Let novices in love themselves address Unto those parts which superficial be: Chloris, I must ingeniously confess, Nothing appears a real fair to me Which at the most but sometimes I do see, But never can at any time possess. Give me a beauty at such distance set, That all the senses which I would employ Being within an even compass met, Each sense may there such equal share enjoy, That neither one the other shall destroy, Or force it for to pay its fellow's debt. So though with dovelike murmurs I did rest, Faster enchanted than with any spell, Lying within your arms, upon your breast, Sipping a nectar kiss whose fragrant smell My tongue within your lips alone should tell, I would not think my powers were oppress'd. Then leave your simp'ring, Chloris, and make haste, Without delighting thus to hear me pray, That all your sweets I may together taste. Should I too long on one perfection stay, I might be forc'd to linger on my way, Or leave thee with the praise of being chaste. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DITTY IN IMITATION OF THE SPANISH: ENTRE TANTO QUE L'AVRIL by EDWARD HERBERT EPITAPH FOR SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, AT ST. PAUL'S WITHOUT A MONUMENT ... by EDWARD HERBERT TO HIS WATCH, WHEN HE COULD NOT SLEEP by EDWARD HERBERT A DESCRIPTION by EDWARD HERBERT A DITTY MADE BY LORENZO ALLEGRE TO ONE SLEEPING TO BE SUNG by EDWARD HERBERT A DIVINE LOVE by EDWARD HERBERT A MEDITATION UPON HIS WAX CANDLE BURNING OUT by EDWARD HERBERT A MERRY RHYME SENT TO THE LADY WROTH .. BIRTH OF LORD PEMBROKE'S CHILD by EDWARD HERBERT |
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