Bright Aspasia! say—how is it?
Tell us with what spell is rife
Smile of thine, whose briefest visit
Wakes each dullest clod to life?
Zephyr shall we type thee, thawing
Vernal flower from Arctic block?
Or some Attic sun-beam, drawing
Hidden oil from rudest rock?
Or believe thee sprite of ages?
Very Her, whom Socrates
Worshipped more than all the Sages,
All the vaunted Seven of Greece.
And their systems throwing over
For the lessons of her eyes,
Happy pupil! happier lover!
Doubly won his name of 'Wise.'
So come thou, delicious preacher!
Orator—of sparkling looks!
Come, like Her, and be our teacher;
Better far than all the books.
Book-worm pedants but benight us;
Cumbrous setting clouds the gem.
Bring but thy bright smile to light us,
And who'd go for fogs to them?
John Kenyon's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Aspasia by John Kenyon )
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
- Algernon Charles Swinburne
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(3rd April 19sixty)
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Winter Solstice, Anonymous