DIVINELY shapen cup, thy lip Unto me seemeth thus to speak: "Behold in me the workmanship, The grace and cunning of a Greek! "Long ages since he mixed the clay, Whose sense of symmetry was such, The labor of a single day Immortal grew beneath his touch. "For dreaming while his fingers went Around this slender neck of mine, The form of her he loved was blent With every matchless curve and line. "Her loveliness to me he gave Who gave unto herself his heart, That love and beauty from the grave Might rise and live again in art." And hearing from thy lips this tale Of love and skill, of art and grace, Thou seem'st to me no more the frail Memento of an older race: But in thy form divinely wrought And figured o'er with fret and scroll, I dream, by happy chance was caught, And dwelleth now, that maiden's soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BIRTHDAY POEM FOR THOMAS HARDY by CECIL DAY LEWIS THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL THE LATE SINGER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON STREET LANTERNS by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE AGAMEMNON: CHORUS by AESCHYLUS THE LORD OF THOULOUSE; A LEGEND OF LANGUEDOC by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |