106
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now. So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they looked but with divining eyes, They had not still enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
106
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now. So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they looked but with divining eyes, They had not still enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
For National Poetry Month in April, we are sharing poetry collections and books about poetry by authors who have their own stories to tell. These poets delve into history, reimagine the present, examine poetry itself, provide insight on grief and reflection—from traditional poems many know and love to poems and voices that are new and
In honor of Arab American Heritage Month in April, we are sharing books by Arab and Arab American authors that share their culture, history, and personal lives.
