A face more vivid than he dreamed who drew Thy portrait in that thrilling tale of old! Dead queen, we see thee still, thy beauty cold As beautiful; thy dauntless heart which knew No fear, -- not even of a king who slew At pleasure; maiden heart which was not sold, Though all the maiden flesh the king's red gold Did buy! The loyal daughter of the Jew, No hour saw thee forget his misery; Thou wert not queen until thy race went free; Yet thoughtful hearts, that ponder slow and deep, Find doubtful reverence at last for thee; Thou heldest thy race too dear, thyself too cheap; Honor no second place for truth can keep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HIGHWAY DEATH TOLL by KAREN SWENSON THE ECHOING GREEN, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE EPICOENE; OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: FREEDOM IN DRESS by BEN JONSON THE STIRRUP-CUP by SIDNEY LANIER FLOWERS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ELEGY BEFORE DEATH by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY LUKE HAVERGAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |