Out of a reeking tenement she trips, Dainty and slim and delicately fair: Her cheeks are rose, and rose-red are her lips, She is a flower, grown in tainted air; You can't believe she could have flourished there, Where even noonday sun is in eclipse, Where grim reality the glamour strips From all life's dreams and leaves them stark and bare. Yet here she is, a flower lush and sweet, That throve, somehow, in rank and fetid soil; Young maidenhood, with light and lilting feet, And eyes which disillusion cannot spoil; And—miracle which few can understand— There are a million like her in the land! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I SHALL NOT CARE by SARA TEASDALE BODY AND SOUL by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI GREEN AISLES by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE DEVIL'S DICTIONARY, SELECTION by AMBROSE BIERCE BOSTON NURSERY RHYME: RHYME FOR AN ASTRONOMICAL BABY by FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS COOK |