VAIN painter, why dost strive my face to draw. With busy hands, a goddess' eyes ne'er saw? Daughter of air and wind, I do rejoice In empty shouts, without a mind a voice. Within your ears, shrill echo, I rebound, And if you'll paint me like, then paint a sound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LIVING STARS by GEORGE SANTAYANA A WOMAN'S SHORTCOMINGS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING JILTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR FRIENDS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE PROEM. TO LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE GREEN GRENADIERS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |