There sighed along the garden path And through the open door a stir; 'Twas not the rustle of the corn, Nor yet the whisper of the fir. There passed an Eastern odor, fraught With the delirium of sense; 'Twas not the attar of the rose, Nor the carnation's redolence. Then came a glimmering of white -- The drench of sheer diaphanous lawn, More palpable than light of stars, And more delectable than dawn. The Paphian curve from throat to waist, From waist to knee, then lost again, Told me how beauty such as hers Spreads like a madness among men. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: COLUMBUS CHENEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SHE HEARS THE STORM by THOMAS HARDY LOVE'S NEW PHILOSOPHY by PHILIP AYRES ASPIRATIONS: 2 by MATHILDE BLIND RELIQUES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO A SPIRIT (1) by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |