Her form is forward bent From years of stooping down. She is a lonely ghost Haunting a dismal town. Day after day she goes To her ignoble task, Her face is sad and dull, A somber, withered mask. Yet she was once a girl With laughter lifted face; Supple and straight and slim, Hers was a sapling's grace. And once she dreamed of love, A home that love had won, Of comfortable old age Spent dozing in the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RECESSIONAL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 9. AT THE ALTAR-RAIL by THOMAS HARDY CENTENNIAL MEDITATION OF COLUMBIA by SIDNEY LANIER A SUMMER NIGHT by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL AT THE CEDARS by DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT THE PLACE OF THE DAMNED by JONATHAN SWIFT THE BATTLE-SONG OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS by MICHAEL ALTENBURG |