Once a pallid vestal Doubted truth in blue Listed red as ruin, Harried every hue; Barricaded vision, Garbed herself in sighs; Ridiculed the birth marks Of the butterflies. Dormant and disdainful, Never could she see Why the golden powder Decorates the bee; Why a summer pasture Lends itself to paint; Why love unappareled, Still remains the saint. Finally she faltered; Saw at last, forsooth, Every gaudy color Is a bit of truth. Then the gates were opened, Miracles were seen; That instructed damsel Donned a gown of green; Wore it in a churchyard, All arrayed with care; And a painted rainbow Shone above her there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE RULETH NOT THROUGH HE RAIGNE OVER REALMES by THOMAS WYATT STABAT MATER DOLOROSA by JACOPONE DA TODI FANCY, FR. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE BOUNDARIES OF APPRECIATION by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A VISION OF THE VOICE OF YAHVEH by AMOS |