Alone it stands in Poesy's fair land, A temple by the muses set apart; A perfect structure of consummate art, By artists builded and by genius planned. Beyond the reach of the apprentice hand, Beyond the ken of the untutored heart, Like a fine carving in a common mart, Only the favored few will understand. A @3chef-d'oeuvre@1 toiled over with great care, Yet which the unseeing careless crowd goes by, A plainly set, but well-cut solitaire, An ancient bit of pottery, too rare To please or hold aught save the special eye, These only with the sonnet can compare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SLAVE MOTHER by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER TO THE KING OF THULE by HENRI ALLORGE HASTINGS' SONNETS: 2 by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES AN AUTUMN PSALM FOR 1860 by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK DEATH'S LECTURE AT THE FUNERAL OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN by RICHARD CRASHAW |