Cynthia, because your horns look diverse ways, Now dark'ned to the east, now to the west, Then at full-glory once in thirty days, Sense doth believe that change is nature's rest. Poor earth, that dare presume to judge the sky, Cynthia is ever round and never varies, Shadows and distance do abuse the eye, And in abused sense truth oft miscarries, Yet who this language to the people speaks, Opinion's empire, sense's idol breaks. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NIGHT MAIL NORTH (EUSTON SQUARE, 1840) by HENRY CHOLMONDELEY-PENNELL OH! SUSANNA! by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER TWO LIVES: CONCLUSION. INDIAN SUMMER by WILLIAM ELLERY LEONARD A SONG OF PANAMA by ALFRED DAMON RUNYON BALLADE OF EGREGIOUSNESS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS OPEN THY HEART by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |