Out of the dust the queen of roses springs; The brackish depths of the blown waters bear Blossoms of foam; the common mist and air Weave Vesper's holy, pity-laden wings. So from sad, mortal, and unhallowed things Bud stars that in their crowns the angels wear; And worship of the infinitely fair Flows from thine eyes, as wise Petrarca sings: "Hence comes the understanding of love's scope, That, seeking thee, to perfect good aspires, Accounting little what all flesh desires; And hence the spirit's happy pinions ope In flight impetuous to the heaven's choirs: Wherefore I walk already proud in hope." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SNOW-FLAKES by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE SUMMER STORM by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 12 by OMAR KHAYYAM TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 2: 7. TO THE BODY by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE ON SICK LEAVE, 1916 by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG DELAY by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES THE COMING OF THE SNOW by MARION L. BERTRAND |