THIS crystal here That shines so clear, And carries in its womb a little day; Once hammer'd will appear Impure as dust, as dark as clay. Even such will prove Thy face, my love! When age shall soil the lustre of thine eyes, And all that red remove That on thy spicy lip now lies: Nor can a hand Again command, By any art, these ruins into frame, But they will sever'd stand, And ne'er compose the former same. Such is the case, Love! of thy face, Both desperate, in this you disagree -- Thy beauty needs must pass It, of itself, will constant be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PARTY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 1. THE HAPPENING by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS OUR HERITAGE by ISIDORE G. ASCHER SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 5. ETERNAL by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 29 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT DEVIL'S GOLD (A HAMPTON LEGEND) by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN THE SHRIMP, SELS by MOSES BROWNE THE SACRIFICE by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. LIFE BEHIND LIFE by EDWARD CARPENTER |