NO QUAINT conceit of speech, No golden, minted phrase -- Dame Nature needs to teach To echo Woman's praise; Pure love and truth unite To do thee, Woman, right! She is the faithful mirror Of thoughts that brightest be -- Of feelings without error, Of matchless constancie; When art essays to render More glorious Heaven's bow -- To paint the virgin splendour Of fresh-fallen mountain snow -- New fancies will I find, To laud true Woman's mind. No words can lovelier make Virtue's all-lovely name, No change can ever shake A woman's virtuous fame: The moon is forth anew, Though envious clouds endeavour To screen her from our view -- More beautiful than ever: So, through detraction's haze, True Woman shines alwaies. The many-tinted Rose, Of gardens is the queen, The perfumed Violet knows No peer where she is seen -- The flower of woman-kind Is aye a gentle mind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVAMPING THE VIRGIN by KAREN SWENSON EPITAPH ON A HARE by WILLIAM COWPER RESURRECTION, IMPERFECT by JOHN DONNE THE MEDAL; A SATIRE AGAINST SEDITION by JOHN DRYDEN HOMAGE TO THE BRITISH MUSEUM by WILLIAM EMPSON WHAT THE BULLET SANG by FRANCIS BRET HARTE |