(Expanded from an Epigram of Piron) STELLA, 'tis not your dainty head, Your artless look, I own; 'Tis not your dear coquettish tread, Or this, or that, alone; Nor is it all your gifts combined; 'Tis something in your face, -- The untranslated, undefined, Uncertainty of grace, That taught the Boy on Ida's hill To whom the meed was due; All three have equal charms -- but still This one I give it to! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 22 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 11 by THOMAS CAMPION A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 26 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN ON CRITICS; IN IMITATION OF ANACREON by MATTHEW PRIOR UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 22. THE CELESTIAL SURGEON by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |