I WOULD have loved: there are no mates in heaven; I would be great: there is no pride in heaven; I would have sung, as doth the nightingale The summer's night beneath the moone pale, But Saintes hymnes alone in heaven prevail. My love, my song, my skill, my high intent, Have I within this seely book y-pent: And all that beauty which from every part I treasured still alway within mine heart, Whether of form or face angelical, Or herb or flower, or lofty cathedral, Upon these sheets below doth lie y-spred, In quaint devices deftly blazoned. Lord, in this tome to Thee I sanctify The sinful fruits of worldly fantasy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: OF THREE GIRLS AND OF THEIR TALK by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO THE UNPARDONABLE SIN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY EYE-WITNESS by FREDERICK RIDGELY TORRENCE THE ONE WHITE ROSE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A SONG OF PROGRESS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THREE SONGS OF LOVE (CHINESE FASHION): 3. LOVE CALL by WILLIAM A. BEATTY |