YOU meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, -- You common people of the skies, What are you when the moon shall rise? You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature's lays, Thinking your passions understood By your weak accents, -- what's your praise When Philomel her voice shall raise? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known, Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own, -- What are you when the rose is blown? So when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind: By virtue first, then choice, a queen, -- Tell me, if she were not designed The eclipse and glory of her kind? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONNET: 17. TO SIR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER by JOHN MILTON BIRDS by NESTA HIGGINSON SKRINE WOULD I KNEW! by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM MASKS OF DEATH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |