Eyes, why did you bring unto me those graces, Graced to yield wonder out of her true measure, Measure of all joys, stay to fancy-traces, Module of pleasure? Reason is now grown a disease in reason, Thoughts knit upon thoughts free alone to wonder, Sense is a spy, made to do fancy treason, Love go I under. Since, then, eyes' pleasure to my thoughts betray me, And my thoughts reason's level have defaced, So that all my powers to be hers, obey me, Love be thou graced. Graced by me, love? No, by her that owes me. She, that an angel's spirit hath retained In Cupid's fair sky, which her beauty shows me, Thus have I gained. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN RIVER by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE USE OF FLOWERS by MARY HOWITT RIDDLE: A CANDLE by MOTHER GOOSE TO GOD AND IRELAND TRUE by ELLEN O'LEARY TO MR. GAY, WHO WROTE HIM A CONGRATULATORY LETTER ON FINISHING HOUSE by ALEXANDER POPE A LIFE'S PARALLELS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LOST AT SEA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |