'TIS mine, wherever beauty shows its face: Not mine to handle with familiar hands; Not captive held by lover's selfish bands To be caressed with foolish fond embrace. But, like a delicately chiselled vase, 'Tis mine to worship where apart it stands, In chaste obedience to His pure commands, Who owns all souls and clothes them with His grace. Not thine the charms thy form doth represent. Thou'rt but the clay that's shaped by artist's skill. "The beauty of the Lord" to thee is lent. Then wear thine honors meekly at His will. To serve as beauty's shadow be content, Till beauty's substance—love—thy being fill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SYMPATHY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE PASSING OF THE EX-SLAVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL |