I see her now -- the fairest thing That ever mocked man's picturing, I picture her as one who drew Aside life's curtain and looked through The mists of all life's mystery As from a wood to open sea. I picture her as one who knew How rare is truth to be untrue -- As one who knew the awful sign Of death, of life, of the divine Sweet pity of all loves, all hates, Beneath the iron-footed fates. I picture her as seeking peace, And olive leaves and vine-set land; While strife stood by on either hand, And wrung her tears like rosaries. I picture her in passing rhyme As of, yet not a part of, these -- A woman born above her time. The soft, wide eyes of wonderment That trusting looked you through and through; The sweet arched mouth, a bow new bent, That sent love's arrows swift and true. That sweet, arched mouth! The Orient Hath not such pearls in all her stores, Nor all her storied, spice-set shores Have fragrance such as it hath spent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MASTER'S TOUCH by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR CINQUAIN: AMAZE by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY MISS KILMANSEGG AND HER PRECIOUS LEG: HER DEATH by THOMAS HOOD KATHLEEN O'MORE by GEORGE NUGENT REYNOLDS ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 110 by PHILIP SIDNEY |