Niké of Samothrace, Thy godlike wings Cleft windy space Above the ships of kings. Fain of thy lips, By hope made glorious, Time kissed thy grand, Greek face Away from us. Our Niké has no wings; She has not known Clean heights, and from her lips Comes starvèd moan. Mints lie that coin her grace, And Time will hate her face, For it has turned the world's hope Into stone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THANATOPSIS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT DEJECTION: AN ODE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE PINES AND THE SEA by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH CACOETHES SCRIBENDI by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES LET US HAVE PEACE by NANCY BYRD TURNER |