THE best ideal is the true And other truth is none. All glory be ascribed to The holy Three in One. Man is most low, God is most high. As sure as heaven it is There must be something to supply All insufficiencies. For souls that might have blessed the time And breathed delightful breath In sordidness of care and crime The city tires to death. And faces fit for leisure gaze And daylight and sweet air, Missing prosperity and praise, Are never known for fair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALLAD OF JUDAS ISCARIOT by ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY MY AIN COUNTRIE by MARY LEE DEMAREST TO JANE: KEEN STARS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE STORY OF ZERBIN AND ISABELLA, FR. ORLANDO FURIOSO by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO |