Lover. YOUR beauty, ripe and calm and fresh As eastern summers are, Must now, forsaking time and flesh, Add light to some small star. Philosopher. Whilst she yet lives, were stars decay'd, Their light by hers relief might find; But Death will lead her to a shade Where Love is cold and Beauty blind. Lover. Lovers, whose priests all poets are, Think every mistress, when she dies, Is changed at least into a star: And who dares doubt the poets wise? Philosopher. But ask not bodies doom'd to die To what abode they go; Since Knowledge is but Sorrow's spy, It is not safe to know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IF IT WERE NOT FOR YOU by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE CARELESS GALLANT by THOMAS JORDAN THE TWO VOICES by ALFRED TENNYSON THE MORAL FABLES: THE TRIAL OF THE FOX by AESOP REMINDER by INDRAN AMIRTHANAYAGAM THE PRINCE OF PEACE by EDWARD HENRY BICKERSTETH |