Give beauty all her right; She 's not to one form tied. Each shape yields fair delight, Where her perfections bide. Helen I grant might pleasing be, And Rosamond was as sweet as she. Some the quick eye commends, Some swelling lips and red; Pale looks have many friends, Through sacred sweetness bred. Meadows have flowers that pleasure move, Though roses are the flowers of love. Free beauty is not bound To one unmoved clime. She visits every ground, And favours every time. Let the old loves with mine compare, My sovereign is as sweet and fair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 32 by JAMES JOYCE REVELATION AT CAP FERRAT by CLARENCE MAJOR FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE by EMMA LAZARUS SUGGESTED BY THE COVER OF A VOLUME OF KEATS'S POEMS by AMY LOWELL THE ROAD TO AVIGNON by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELMER BARR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE RUSSIAN ARMY GOES INTO BAKU by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER |