Though Thou beest all that Active Love, Which heats those ravisht Soules above; And though all joyes spring from the glance Of Thy most winning countenance; Yet sowre and grim Thou'dst seem to me; If through my Christ I saw not Thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ILKA BLADE O' GRASS KEPS ITS AIN DRAP O' DEW by JAMES BALLANTYNE ODE ON THE SPRING by THOMAS GRAY THE BOYS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE WIND by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 3 by MARK AKENSIDE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 6. FAIR AND SOFTLY by PHILIP AYRES |