Ah Serenissa, from our arms Did you for death's preserve your charms; From us that serv'd so long in vain, Shall heav'n so soon the prize obtain? Sickness, its courtship, makes the fair As pale as her own lovers are. Sure you, the goddess we adore, Who all coelestial seem'd before, While vows and service nothing gain'd, Which, were you woman, had obtain'd; At last in pity, for our sake, Descend an human form to take, And by this sickness chuse to tell You are not now invincible. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAESAR'S LOST TRANSPORT SHIPS by ROBERT FROST FINALITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PROMISE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE DINNER-PARTY by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |