You might have paled Bernhardt's Camille Or Shakespeare's greenwood tree, Drowned out Shelly's skylark or The Chimes of Normandy. But you are beating parlor rugs And scraping kitchen soot, And washing window glass with grime Bound to you hand and foot. You might have walked in marble courts, Stood under frescoed domes; You might have climbed the Eiffel Tower And plumbed the catacombs. But you are bandaging stubbed toes And poulticing bee stings, And drying smudgy tears with grime Tied to your apron strings. And if it should touch your lips More bright than any chime, Or lark or flower or greenwood tree Is grime. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO ETHIOPIA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONGS OF TRAVEL: 1. THE VAGABOND by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONG BEFORE SORROW by LOUISE A. BALDWIN THE FEAST OF THE GODS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ON THE BEACH AT EVENING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT AND FUSELI by ROBERT BROWNING ON JOHN DOVE [JOHNNY DOW], INNKEEPER OF MAUCHLINE by ROBERT BURNS |