ALL beauty is but thee in echo-shapes, No lovely thing but echoes some of thee, Vainly some touch of thy perfection apes, Sighing as fair as thou thyself to be; Therefore, be not disquieted that I On other forms turn oft my wandering gaze, Nor deem it anywise disloyalty: Nay! 'tis the pious fervour of my eye, That seeks thy face in every other face. As in the mirrored salon of a queen, Flashes from glass to glass, as she walks by, In sweet reiteration still -- the queen! So is the world for thee to walk in, sweet; But to see thee is all things to have seen. And, as the moon in every crystal lake, Walking the heaven with little silver feet, Sees each bright copy her reflection take, And every dew-drop holds its little glass, To catch her loveliness as she doth pass, So do all things make haste to copy thee. I, then, to see thee thus over and over, Am wistful too all lovely shapes to see, For each thus makes me more and more thy lover. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH by ROBERT BURNS MY LOVE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AIRY NOTHINGS. FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE CHILD ALONE: 3. MY KINGDOM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONNET: AT MY WORD by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |