SHE brought with her the freshness of the morn, The vivid beauty of a harvest scene; Her glowing skin was like the ripened corn, Her lips the poppies that do blow between. All dusky was her hair, as when there lies Deep shadow underneath the elms, a boon To weary reapers in the scorching noon; And lo! God's peace was laid upon her eyes. Her presence had the richness of a rose That blooms alone in some still garden place; She moved melodiously, as water flows, And tranquil visions floated round her face, Or like fine odours drifted from her gown, Of English lanes, and hazel-shaded stiles, Or gabled roofs, and fluted, crimson tiles Of some old water-fondled, Flemish town. Men saw no more the blinding stony street, But stood where beeches build the fanes of rest; They heard no more the tramp of aching feet, But sound of some cool stream across whose breast In sweet abandonment a willow lies. She had day's radiance with the calm of night, And few despair of peace who saw the light Wherewith God starred the darkness of her eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INCORRIGIBLE DIRIGIBLE by HAYDEN CARRUTH AT THE ZOO IN SPAIN by CLARENCE MAJOR PRAISE FOR AN URN; IN MEMORIAM: ERNEST NELSON by HAROLD HART CRANE THE INCENSE BURNER by ABUS SALT THREE THINGS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 36. STRONG, LIKE THE SEA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |