Lady, Lady, I saw your face, Dark as night withholding a star . . . The chisel fell, or it might have been You had borne so long the yoke of men. Lady, Lady, I saw your hands, Twisted, awry, like crumpled roots, Bleached poor white in a sudsy tub, Wrinkled and drawn from your rub-a-dub. Lady, Lady, I saw your heart, And altared there in its darksome place Were the tongues of flame the ancients knew, Where the good God sits to spangle through. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH AND THE LADY; THEIR BARGAIN TOLD AGAIN by LEONIE ADAMS IN ANSWER TO QUESTION FROM GREEK GRAMMAR: WHAT FUTURES SPEAK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD CHRISTMAS MORNING by RICHARD BECK KNOWLEDGE by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH FORFEITS by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER ON CHLORIS BEING ILL by ROBERT BURNS LIKE CLEAR MUSIC by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |