I know thou art a man, thou hast his mould; Thy wings are fancy and a poet's lie, Thy halo but the dimness of his eye, And thy fair chivalry a legend old. Yet I mistrust the truth, and partly hold Thou art a herald of the upper sky, Where all the truth yet lives that seemed to die, And love is never faint nor virtue cold. I still would see thee spotless, fervent, calm, With heaven in thine eyes, and with the mild White lily in one hand, in one the palm, Bringing the world that rapture undefiled Which Mary knew, when, answering with a psalm Thine Ave, she conceived her holy Child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A NOCTURNAL REVERIE by ANNE FINCH PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER HELIOTROPE by HARRY THURSTON PECK DEAD MAN'S DUMP by ISAAC ROSENBERG ON THE ENGINE BY NIGHT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON EPIPHANIE CAROL by JOSEPH BEAUMONT PROLOGUE. INTENDED FOR A DRAMATIC PIECE OF KING EDWARD THE FOURTH by WILLIAM BLAKE |