How well, fair crown of your fair sex, might he, That but the twilight of your sprite did see, And noted for what flesh such souls were framed, Know you to be a Sidney, though unnamed? And, being named, how little doth that name Need any muse's praise to give it fame? Which is, itself, the imprese of the great, And glory of them all, but to repeat! Forgive me then, if mine but say you are A Sidney: but in that extend as far As loudest praisers, who perhaps would find For every part a character assigned. My praise is plain, and wheresoe'er professed, Becomes none more than you, who need it least. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WOOD OF FLOWERS by JAMES STEPHENS PIETRO ARETINO by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE THE DAUGHTER by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS STOKLEWATH; OR, THE CUMBRIAN VILLAGE by SUSANNA BLAMIRE THE MAIDEN'S SORROW by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TO - by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. WHEN I AM NEAR TO YOU by EDWARD CARPENTER |