WHAT shepherd can express The favour of her face, To whom in this distress I do appeal for grace? A thousand Cupids fly About her gentle eye. From which each throws a dart That kindleth soft sweet fire Within my sighing heart, Possessed by desire: No sweeter life I try Than in her love to die. The lily in the field, That glories in his white, For pureness now must yield, And render up his right: Heaven pictured in her face Doth promise joy and grace. Fair Cynthia's silver light, That beats on running streams, Compares not with her white, Whose hairs are all sunbeams: So bright my nymph doth shine As day unto my eyne. With this there is a red, Exceeds the damask rose, Which in her cheeks is spread, Where every favour grows: In sky there is no star, But she surmounts it far. When Phoebus from the bed Of Thetis doth arise, The morning blushing red, In fair carnation-wise, He shows in my nymph's face, As queen of every grace. This pleasant lily white, This taint of roseate red, This Cynthia's silver light, This sweet fair Dea spread, These sunbeams in mine eye, These beauties make me die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEW ARRIVAL by GEORGE WASHINGTON CABLE TO THE MEMORY OF THE BRAVE AMERICANS UNDER GENERAL GREENE by PHILIP FRENEAU ONE CROWDED HOUR, FR. OLD MORTALITY by WALTER SCOTT MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD TO HIS LYRE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A WORD TO THE WEST END by THOMAS ASHE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 18. A PORTRAIT by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |