HER step is soft as a fay's footfall, And her eyes are wonderful founts of blue; But I've seen that small foot spurning hearts, And the soul that burns so strangely through Those orbs of blue, O! is't a @3human@1 soul at all? I never have gazed on their cloudless light, But there came a chill to my blood and brain, And their ominous beauty hath struck me dumb With a secret and nameless pain: Ay, blood and brain Grew cold as with spells of a witch's blight. Is't true? Can it be that a mortal frame Of the tenderest mould, of the fairest grace, May hold but a serpent's soul in sooth? That the white and red of the daintiest face May mask the trace Of subtle guile, that shall wake to flame And smite with the sting of a poisoned jest, Or the sudden flashing of deadly scorn, If it be, I know that your Charmian there, In her fragile grace, is a Lamia, born To blight the morn Of the passion that clings to her faithless breast! Why, look! As we speak, she has turned her wiles On the gilded wooer her eyes had sought, While @3you@1 were steeped in the roseate gulf Of a sweet, voluptuous thought: @3Some@1 loves are bought, And you'll yearn in vain for her 'wildering smiles. From this night forth, until placid and meek, (Oh! meek as a saint, as an angel bland!) With a faint rose flushing her brow and cheek, She whispers, "@3Adieu! I must give my hand, At the heart's command. Win a worthier love; you have only to seek!@1" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF NATURE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON EPITAPH UPON A CHILD THAT DIED by ROBERT HERRICK THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS by ABRAHAM LINCOLN TACKING SHIP OFF SHORE by WALTER MITCHELL STRANGE MEETINGS: 1 by HAROLD MONRO THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 1 by MARK AKENSIDE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 49. THE ENGLISH RACE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |