IN Nature's pieces still I see Some error that might mended be; Something my wish could still remove, Alter or add; but my fair love Was fram'd by hands far more divine, For she hath every beauteous line: Yet I had been far happier, Had Nature, that made me, made her. Then likeness might (that love creates) Have made her love what now she hates; Yet, I confess, I cannot spare From her just shape the smallest hair; Nor need I beg from all the store Of heaven for her one beauty more. She hath too much divinity for me: You gods, teach her some more humanity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 74 by ALFRED TENNYSON TO THE DAISY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH HE GIVES HIS BELOVED CERTAIN RHYMES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE STOLEN CHILD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 33. LOVE KEEPS ALL THINGS IN ORDER by PHILIP AYRES |