AH - it's the skeleton of a lady's sunshade, Here at my feet in the hard rock's chink, Merely a naked sheaf of wires! - Twenty years have gone with their livers and diers Since it was silked in its white or pink. Noonshine riddles the ribs of the sunshade, No more a screen from the weakest ray; Nothing to tell us the hue of its dyes, Nothing but rusty bones as it lies In its coffin of stone, unseen till to-day. Where is the woman who carried that sunshade Up and down this seaside place? - Little thumb standing against its stem, Thoughts perhaps bent on a love-stratagem, Softening yet more the already soft face! Is the fair woman who carried that sunshade A skeleton just as her property is, Laid in the chink that none may scan? And does she regret - if regret dust can - The vain things thought when she flourished this? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FATIGUE; EPIGRAM by HILAIRE BELLOC THE MOUSE by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE WAR IS KIND: 21 by STEPHEN CRANE FLOWER-GATHERING by ROBERT FROST THE LATTER DAY by THOMAS HASTINGS DIVINATION BY A DAFFADILL by ROBERT HERRICK TO MY GRANDMOTHER; SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE BY MR. ROMNEY by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON |