THY beauty! not a fault is there; No queen of Grecian line E'er braided more luxuriant hair O'er forehead more divine. The light of midnight's starry heaven Is in those radiant eyes; The rose's crimson life has given That cheek its morning dyes. Thy voice is sweet, as if it took Its music from thy face; And word and mien, and step and look, Are perfect in their grace. And yet I love thee not: thy brow Is but the sculptor's mould: It wants a shade, it wants a glow, -- It is less fair than cold. Where are thy blushes, where thy tears? Thy cheek has but one rose: No eloquence of hopes and fears Disturbs its bright repose. Thy large dark eyes grow not more dark With tears that swell unshed: Alas! thy heart is as the ark That floated o'er the dead. Hope, feeling, fancy, fear, and love Are in one ruin hurl'd; Fate's dreary waters roll above Thy young and other world. And thou hast lived o'er scenes like these, The terrible, the past, Where hearts must either break or freeze, -- And thine has done the last. Thou mov'st amid the heartless throng With school'd and alter'd brow: Thy face has worn its mask so long, It is its likeness now. Where is the colour that once flush'd With every eager word? Where the sweet joyous laugh, that gush'd Like spring songs from the bird? Where are the tears a word once brought, -- The heart's sweet social rain? Where are the smiles that only sought To see themselves again? I knew thee in thine earlier hours, A very summer queen For some young poet's dream: -- those flow'rs Are just what thou hast been, -- Wild flow'rs, all touch'd with rainbow hues, Born in a morning sky, Lighted with sunshine, fill'd with dews, Made for a smile and sigh. But now I look upon thy face, A very pictured show, Betraying not the slightest trace Of what may work below. Farewell, affection! -- selfish, changed, Thine it no more may be; From love thou hast thyself estranged, -- It could not dwell with thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE ON THE UNVEILING OF THE SHAW MEMORIA BOSTON COMMON, MAY 31, 1897 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SAILORS' [OR MARINERS'] SONG by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE PASSIONS: AN ODE FOR MUSIC by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD |