As a white candle In a holy place, So is the beauty Of an aged face. As the spent radiance Of the winter sun, So is a woman With her travail done, Her brood gone from her, And her thoughts as still As the waters Under a ruined mill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE HILL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE DEATH OF ADONIS by THEOCRITUS MOUNT RUSHMORE by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN VERSES DESIGNED FOR A WATCH CASE by JOHN BYROM TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. TO A FRIEND by EDWARD CARPENTER AN ODE: SECUNDEM ARTEM by WILLIAM COWPER |