All the World Is Thus Compared
My love, to you, I think tis fair
That all the world is thus compared
In evenings eye the stringy ray
In mornings stir the colloquial way
Which nature flaunts her sallow cheeks
Or bats a blushing eye indeed.
For in the call of natures wake
Which sun and moon do both partake
No crimes of passion are proclaimed
No hearts abashed are yet ashamed
For sun is star but simply-bold
Drawing nigh the world of olde
And moon is rash with subtle charm
Embraced by midnights wanton arms
Thus sun and moon-what ornaments!
Revolving round thy comeliness
For men of science thus have deemed
Some force or weight draws them-see?
But in a quiet hour I’ve supposed
Thine earthly presence lures them so.
Hence-my love I think tis fair
All the world is thus compared
A field of rose upon thy cheeks
The sound of autumn when you sleep
The slight and fragrant whispering
Of all that nature can achieve
God hath surely granted thee.
Copyright © Bruce Creech | Year Posted 2015
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