I HAVE seen her, with her golden hair, And her exquisite primrose face, And the violet in her eyes; And my heart received its own despair -- The thrall of a hopeless grace, And the knowledge of how youth dies. Live hair afloat with snakes of gold, And a throat as white as snow, And a stately figure and foot; And that faint pink smile, so sweet, so cold, Like a wood anemone, closed below The shade of an ilex root. And her delicate milk-white hand in mine, And her pensive voice in my ear, And her eyes downcast as we speak. I am filled with a rapture, vague and fine; For there has fallen a sparkling tear Over her soft, pale cheek. And I know that all is hopeless now. And that which might have been, Had she only waited a year or two, Is turned to a wild regret, I know, Which will haunt us both, whatever the scene, And whatever the path we go. Meanwhile, for one moment, hand in hand, We gaze on each other's eyes; And the red moon rises above us; We linger with love in the lovely land, -- Italy with its yearning skies, And its wild white stars that love us. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASKING FOR ROSES by ROBERT FROST THE CROPPY BOY: (A BALLAD OF '98) by WILLIAM B. MCBURNEY SONNET: 15. TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX by JOHN MILTON THE LOST WAR-SLOOP by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR THE LAW OF THE YUKON by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE ON A GRAVE IN CHRIST-CHURCH, HANTS by OSCAR FAY ADAMS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: CUPID TO CHLOE WEEPING; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES |