More than most faire, full of the living fire Kindled above unto the Maker neere: No eies, but joyes, in which al powers conspire, That to the world naught else be counted deare: Thrugh your bright beams doth not the blinded guest Shoot out his darts to base affections wound; But angels come, to lead fraile mindes to rest In chast desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within, You stop my toung, and teach my hart to speake, You calme the storme that passion did begin, Strong thrugh your cause, but by your vertue weak. Dark is the world where your light shined never; Well is he borne that may behold you ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAMENT FOR CULLODEN by ROBERT BURNS A FIESOLAN IDYL by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR TO A REPUBLICAN FRIEND, 1848, CONTINUED by MATTHEW ARNOLD COMOS by ADRA CAROLINE BATCHELDER THE SHOES THAT DANCED by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |