WHEN yon full moon's with her white fleet of stars, And but one bird makes music in the grove; When you and I are breathing side by side, Where our two bodies make one shadow, love; Not for her beauty will I praise the moon, But that she lights thy purer face and throat; The only praise I'll give the nightingale Is that she draws from thee a richer note. For, blinded with thy beauty, I am filled, Like Saul of Tarsus, with a greater light; When he had heard that warning voice in Heaven, And lost his eyes to find a deeper sight. Come, let us sit in that deep silence then, Launched on love's rapids, with our passions proud, That makes all music hollow -- though the lark Raves in his windy heights above a cloud. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VISION by GEORGE SANTAYANA ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA by ROBERT HERRICK I DO NOT LOVE THEE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON THE LOWEST PLACE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI HYMN OF THE WEST by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN BIVOUAC ON A MOUNTAIN SIDE by WALT WHITMAN |