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...REPULSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO A MAN WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD by MARIANNE MOORE THE RUSSIAN ARMY GOES INTO BAKU by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER ELEGY: THE GHOST WHOSE LIPS WERE WARM; FOR GEOFFREY GORER by EDITH SITWELL THE INEBRIATE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM JIM, WHO RAN AWAY FROM HIS NURSE, AND WAS EATEN BY A LION by HILAIRE BELLOC |