GREAT passions I awake that must Bow any woman to the dust With fear lest she should fail to rise As high as those enamoured eyes. Now for those flying days and sweet I sit in Beauty's Mercy-Seat. My smiles, my favours I award, Since I am beautiful, adored. They praise my cheeks, my lips, my eyes, With Love's most exquisite flatteries, Covet my hands that they may kiss And to their ardent bosoms press. My foot upon the nursery stair Makes them a music rich and rare; My skirt that rustles as I come For very rapture strikes them dumb. What jealousies of word and glance! The light of my poor countenance Lights up their world that else were drear. "But you are lovely, mother dear!" I go not to my grave but I Know Beauty's full supremacy: Like Cleopatra's self, I prove The very heights and depths of Love. So to be loved, so to be wooed, Oh, more than mortal woman should! What if she fail or fall behind! Lord, make me worthy, keep them blind! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GREAT HUNT by CARL SANDBURG THE RAND MCNALLY ATLAS by KAREN SWENSON THE SOLDIER GOING TO THE FIELD by WILLIAM DAVENANT A BANJO SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR APOLLO AND DAPHNE by PHILIP AYRES TO MARY; OCCASIONED BY HER HAVING ENGRAVED ON A SEAL 'FORGET ME NOT' by BERNARD BARTON |