NAY but you, who do not love her, Is she not pure gold, my mistress? Holds earth aught -- speak truth -- above her? Aught like this tress, see, and this tress, And this last fairest tress of all, So fair, see, ere I let it fall? Because you spend your lives in praising; To praise, you search the wide world over; Then why not witness, calmly gazing, If earth holds aught -- speak truth -- above her? Above this tress, and this, I touch But cannot praise, I love so much! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSLUCENT FINGERS by MALCOLM COWLEY DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 5. THE DANCING GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON JUNIUS BRUTUS BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PEACE ON EARTH by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 47. THE CARPENTER'S SON by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SONG by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY THE CASTLE BY THE SEA by JOHANN LUDWIG UHLAND THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH COLORED HEROES, HARK THE BUGLE; POLITICAL by ROBERT CHARLES O'HARA BENJAMIN |