So oft as I her beauty doe behold, And therewith doe her cruelty compare, I marvaile of what substance was the mould The which her made attonce so cruell faire. Not earth; for her high thoghts more heavenly are: Not water; for her love doth burne like fyre: Not ayre; for she is not so light or rare: Not fyre; for she doth friese with faint desire. Then needs another element inquire, Whereof she mote be made; that is the skye. For to the heaven her haughty looks aspire, And eke her mind is pure immortall hye. Then sith to heaven ye lykened are the best, Be lyke in mercy as in all the rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLOUGHMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES SENCE YOU WENT AWAY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CALYPSO WATCHING THE OCEAN by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON ROMEO AND JULIET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE YELLOW BADGE by RUTH SCHECHTER ALEXANDER BIRTHDAY LINES TO AGNES BAILLIE by JOANNA BAILLIE |