I saw the flesh that made the lover burn, The eyes that sent him like a hound astray Over wan hills, the hands for whose return He shall be waiting on the judgment day; Here were the colors and the measurements Required for his ruin, the sure accord Of properties to blind him, eye and sense, The atom edged to slaughter like the sword. For granting all her grace, there stands at last Only a formula—she, the pre-destined whim Of his delight—grown strange, portentous, vast— Equation dark, how personal to him, Of Beauty lost, earth rent, the Heavens void! X equals A—and so, he is destroyed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEVER TOO LATE: THE PALMER'S ODE by ROBERT GREENE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 32 by PHILIP SIDNEY LATAKIA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH COMPLAINS OF THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES SHEPHERD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |