O tears, no tears, but rain from beauty's skies, Making those lilies and those roses grow Which aye most fair, now more than most fair show, While graceful pity beauty beautifies: O honeyed sighs, which from that breast do rise Whose pants do make unspilling cream to flow, Winged with whose breath so pleasing zephyrs blow, As can refresh the hell where my soul fries: O plaints, conserved in such a sugared phrase That eloquence itself envies your praise, While sobbed-out words a perfect music give: Such tears, sighs, plaints, no sorrow is, but joy; Or if such heavenly signs must prove annoy, All mirth farewell, let me in sorrow live. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUNG BULLFROGS by CARL SANDBURG THE TRAVELLER AT THE SOURCE OF THE NILE by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME by ROBERT HERRICK ON VISITING THE TOMB OF BURNS by JOHN KEATS THE MASTER by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |