SHE lifted up her head With the proud incredible poise Of beauty recovered From the Mycenaean tombs. She opened her nostrils With the wild arrogance Of life that knows nothing Except that it is life. Her slender legs Quivered above the soft grass. Her hard hooves Danced among the dandelions. Her great dark eyes Saw all that could be seen. Her large lips Plucked at my coat-sleeve. All the wisdom of the prophets Vanished into laughter As Loreine lifted her small foot And pawed the air. All the learning of the sages Turned to ribald rubrics When that proud head Looked at a passing cloud. And so, amid this godless God-hungry generation, Let us, my friends, take Loreine And worship her. She would demand nothing, Nor would she utter thunders. She is living, and real, And she is beautiful. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO TOBACCO by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY HYMN OF THE EARTH by WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1817-1901) MACFLECKNOE; OR, A SATIRE UPON THE TRUE-BLUE-PROTESTANT POET by JOHN DRYDEN THE TROOPS by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE RIVER DUDDON: SONNET 34. AFTER-THOUGHT by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 6 by RICHARD BARNFIELD EPITAPH; INSCRIPTION FOR A MONUMENT ERECTED BY GENTLEMAN FOR HIS LADY by JAMES BEATTIE |