TO WHAT SHALL I COMPARE HER? 95 So when the earth is alive with gods, And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod, And the grass sings in the meadows, And the flowers smile in the shadows, Sits my heart at ease, Hearing the song of the leas, Singing the songs of the meadows, TO WHAT SHALL I COMPARE HER ? To what shall I compaieher, That is as fair as she ? For she is fairer—fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her, The sainted of my youth ? For she is truer—truer Than the truth. As the stars are from the sleeper, Her heart is hid from me; For she is deeper—deeper Than the sea. Yet in my dreams I view her Flush rosy with new ruth—< Dreams! Ah, may these prove truer Than the truth.