When was thy Rose bound to meet
mine eyes exempt and with her heart
once more to love's rhythm beat,
so she'd need not stand her beauty's guard?
To restrain the doubt that stood thy judgment's loyal hound
and relish the soul's abiding glee
without adverse exception to be found,
is rarest a fortune bestowed to thee.
How was I, to unending sin enthralled,
worthy of thy tender Grace?
T'was her my desperate succour called,
that light did shine upon thy loving face.
'Mongst the finest did thy vessel rank
that in harbour her majesty did boast;
now her sails pure she carries blank,
which lack thy song so carefully composed.
T'was Mercy thy heart did brew,
so my heart, o so yearning to be free,
could stand as arbiter his own, so just and true,
and affirm the vow I gave to thee.
-
Author:
Yes (
Offline) - Published: March 6th, 2021 06:46
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments2
Good write Yes. Great title!
Thank you! I don't really like to give titles to what I write - I prefer to let the reader figure out what the poem is about as they read along.
Very good words Yes.
The painting had me hooked as soon as I saw it, I love the Pre-Raphaelites, I know that John William Waterhouse was much later in becoming a member of the Pre-Raphaelites but his work is typical of that style.
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