MARK how this polish'd Eastern sheet Doth with our Northern tincture meet, For though the paper seem to sink, Yet it receives and bears the ink; And on her smooth soft brow these spots Seem rather ornaments than blots; Like those you ladies use to place Mysteriously about your face, Not only to set off and break Shadows and eye-beams, but to speak To the skill'd lover, and relate Unheard his sad or happy fate. Nor do their characters delight As careless works of black and white; But 'cause you underneath may find A sense that can inform the mind, Divine or moral rules impart, Or raptures of poetic art: So what at first was only fit To fold up silks may wrap up wit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THISTLE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE WOUNDED CUPID. SONG by ANACREON THE INEBRIATE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE BURNING OF THE TEMPLE by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE SPINNER by CLARA DOTY BATES EPITAPH ON MR. VAUX, THE PHYSICIAN by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |