THINE eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair, And the wan lustre of thy features -- caught From contemplation -- where serenely wrought, Seems Sorrow's softness charm'd from its despair -- Have thrown such speaking sadness in thine air, That -- but I know thy blessed bosom fraught With mines of unalloy'd and stainless thought -- I should have deem'd thee doom'd to earthly care. With such an aspect, by his colours blent, When from his beauty-breathing pencil born (Except that thou hast nothing to repent), The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn -- Such seem'st thou -- but how much more excellent! With nought Remorse can claim -- nor Virtue scorn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF EOGHAN RUADH (OWEN ROE) O'NEIL by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS THE HOUR OF DEATH by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS HENRY PURCELL by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SNOWFLAKES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TWILIGHT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE PITY OF LOVE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |