Some three, or five, or seven, and thirty years; A Roman nose; a dimpling double-chin; Dark eyes and shy that, ignorant of sin, Are yet acquainted, it would seem, with tears; A comely shape; a slim, high-coloured hand, Graced, rather oddly, with a signet ring; A bashful air, becoming everything; A well-bred silence always at command. Her plain print gown, prim cap, and bright steel chain Look out of place on her, and I remain Absorbed in her, as in a pleasant mystery. Quick, skillful, quiet, soft in speech and touch . . . 'Do you like nursing?' 'Yes, Sir, very much,' Somehow, I rather think she has a history. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OF JACOPO DEL SELLAIO by EZRA POUND FROM THE SHORE by CARL SANDBURG A WINTER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE ARIZONA POEMS: 4. THE WINDMILLS by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER BURY ME IN A FREE LAND by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER ROBERT E. LEE by JULIA WARD HOWE IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON, FR. THE HELLENICS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |