In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; But now is black beauty's successive heir, And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame: For since each hand hath put on nature's power, Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black, Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack, Slandering creation with a false esteem: Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, That every tongue says beauty should look so. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MAKE A PRAIRIE by EMILY DICKINSON A WIFE IN LONDON by THOMAS HARDY AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 3. AFTER THE CLUB-DANCE by THOMAS HARDY THE DEPARTURE OF THE GOOD DAEMON by ROBERT HERRICK TO JOHN KEATS; SONNET by AMY LOWELL HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 6. YEUX GLAUQUES by EZRA POUND SONNET: 5 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |