When my hand closed upon thee, worn and spent With idly dashing on the window-pane, Or clinging to the cornice - I, that meant At once to free thee, could not but detain; I dropt my pen, I left the unfinished lay, To give thee back to freedom; but I took - Oh, charm of sweet occasion! - one brief look At thy bright eyes and innocent dismay; Then forth I sent thee on thy homeward quest, My lesson learnt - thy beauty got by heart: And if, at times, my sonnet-muse would rest Short of her topmost skill, her little best, The memory of thy delicate gold crest Shall plead for one last touch, - the crown of Art. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRAFTSMAN by MARCUS B. CHRISTIAN NO MASTER by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SABBATH MORNING by L. DALE AHERN WRITTEN IN BUTLER'S SERMONS by MATTHEW ARNOLD AN EVENING PRAYER by C. MAUDE BATTERSBY HEART-SONG by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE AN ELECTION BALLAD by ROBERT BURNS |