Thus thou descend'st to our infirmitie, Who can the Sun in water see. Soe dost thou, when in silke and gold, Thou cloudst thy selfe; since wee which doe behold, Are dust, and wormes, 'tis just Our objects be the fruits of wormes and dust; Let every Jewell be a glorious starre, Yet starres are not so pure, as their spheares are. And though thou stoope, to'appeare to us in part, Still in that Picture thou intirely art, Which thy inflaming eyes have made within his loving heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND WHAT SHALL YOU SAY? by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. BETWEEN THE LINES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON SHERMAN by RICHARD WATSON GILDER LYSISTRATA: HYMN OF PEACE; CHORUSES OF ATHENIANS AND SPARTANS by ARISTOPHANES THE VOICE FROM GALILEE by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR THREE LULLABIES by FRED EMERSON BROOKS |